


Surrogate

by FallenSurvivor



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenSurvivor/pseuds/FallenSurvivor
Summary: Seladon was the target. Really, she was. The fact that her sisters were dragged into her kidnapping was pure mistake. but Seladon was the target. In one night, in one fell swoop, she has become mother, Maudra, and nursemaid to her enemies. How will Seladon adapt to her new life, with a delicate shackle around her ankle as she traverses the castle, heir to the throne in her arms?Update: This was asked of me for clarification and/or to avoid reading it:Sex scenes per character:Tavra: Chapter 7Seladon: Chapter 10 and 11Naia: Chapter 13
Relationships: Amri/Naia (Dark Crystal), Brea/Rek'yr (Dark Crystal), Gurjin/Seladon (Dark Crystal), Onica/Tavra (Dark Crystal), Tavra/Multiple Sifan Wives, Tavra/Sifan OCs
Comments: 26
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you want me to continue this or leave it as a one shot. 
> 
> Please stay safe during the tough times and my prayers are with all off you. Stay strong my friends!

They wanted her milk, as she would come to find out.

The two female soldiers, specifically the ones that dragged her and her sisters off their imperial vessel in the midst of a raging storm, held Seladon by either arm and dragged her through grand halls of the Lord Regent, Gelfling king over the Sifan, Drenchen, and Dousan tribes. And sworn enemy of the Alliance of Crystal tribes, her own vapran, spriton, stone-in-the-wood, and grotton. 

The castle was rather amazing. Where she expected stone walls, torches and skinned animals, she found sleek reflective marbles, high ceilings from which fireless lights glowed through twinkling droplets of jewels. Dense and luxurious carpets softened her footsteps as she was drawn past near life like portraits of the royal Drenchen families, and coronated Western All-Maudras, up to the last one, the one that died a few unum ago from child birth, as her mother’s spy had reported. 

Both the Maudra and her childling had died, and with no female heirs All-Maudra Mayrin had softly shared the news with Seladon in hopes that the war would come to a close due to the Western power vacuum. 

Ever item within this gilded palace shined in ways Seladon herself had never seen. Even the soldiers were garbed in fine armors and equipped with weapons that fired metal balls on their hips, perfectly sharpened swords. It was all better than anything Tavra was assigned. 

Her poor sister. When the soldiers tackled Tavra, they cut away her armors and one of the Sifan Far-dreamers used her Vilyaya to subdue her Tavra’s mind, the only one of the royal sisters that could really fight. 

Brea was thrown over A drenchen woman’s shoulder and carried away before Seladon could scream. 

Now, the three of them, and the soldiers that held them, were dripping wet as they entered the grand castle at the edge of the sea. The hall unfolded into a throne room, just as grand, a massive marble throne etched in gold, against a strangely decorated and shiny wall. Standing next to the throne was another Drenchen, a tall male, powerful and dressed in soft looking clothes. Unbecoming of his peoples and their savagery that was well known amongst Seladon’s own clan. 

“Lord Regent,” The Drenchen woman dropped Brea in front of the throne, where she oophed and laid their, her breath stuttering. The drenchen bowed to the male. “the Eastern All-Maudra’s daughters, just as you asked.” 

That bastard. Seladon glared at him, wanted to spit at him, but she was too far, but why did he want them? 

His eyes seemed to bore into her, then slowly rolled over her body. She felt undressed as the corner of his lips curled. Did he enjoy their fear? Then he bounced his eyes between her sisters, thankfully with far less interest then he paid to her. “Three princesses?”

“Yes, sire.” The Drenchen woman straightened herself, “We did not know which one was Princess Seladon.” 

Oh, thra. Her. they were only after her, and her sisters would suffer the consequences of this kidnapping with her. “Why?” She couldn’t help but let the question burst from her. How uncouth. She bit her lips. She would show no more cards. 

“I am well aware that you are milking.” He nodded as his eyes flicked down to her breasts. “That miraculously you started producing such a liquid the moment you turned twelve. And that you have reasonably fed any orphans of your united clans as a mother of her people.” He smiled again. “All well and good. Now. I need that milk.” 

Seladon leaned back in the arms of the soldiers around her. “You kidnapped myself and my sisters to breast feed you?” She didn’t understand. Why? Why her? 

His smile dropped, “Not me. No.” he waved his hand, ordered the drenchen woman off with a bark of horrible twisted sounds. She didn’t now know of what native tongue this was. And she didn’t want to stay and find out. 

Instead he reached for Brea, who had started to crawl towards Seladon when she seemed to have her air back. 

He wrapped his arm around her bicep and lifted Brea to her feet, then dragged her close, a knife flashed in his other hand. He pressed the tip of the blade to the underside of Brea chin and Seladon and Tavra cried out. 

“Please,” Seladon shook her head, unable to look away from her little sister, who trembled and cried and stared at Seladon, “Please, I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt her.” The male glanced at her, but didn’t move a muscles, still holding Brea tight. 

Then he spoke to her, “Untie your bosom, Princess Seladon.” He ordered, “The milk is needed now.” 

Seladon didn’t question it, as the soldiers let her go, as her numb fingers tottered at the ties that held her clothes closed over her neck and collar bones and breasts and just under them. She did not part the clothe, just untied them and let them hang. 

“Please.” Seladon must have looked miserable. “Please, don’t hurt my baby sister.” 

His ears swiveled at her words, then he withdrew his blade, but did not let Brea go, “You will know that the price for any action against me or mine, will be the lives of your sisters.” He turned towards Seladon now, Brea in tow, “You understand?” His dark eyes were softer than they had been, softer, perhaps since her pleas. If he had some sort of empathy, perhaps she could play on that? 

“Yes, I’ll do anything.” The great All-Maudra’s Heir to the throne was crumbling and bowing to this false royal, this male whom took charge when a Matriarch should be, in this twisted fucking state. “Just don’t hurt my sisters.” He grinned, but his shoulders seemed to relax. 

Then a frail wail lit the room as the drenchen woman returned with a bundle in her arms. She strode purposefully towards Seladon, then pressed the bundle against her milk swollen chest. Seladon looked at the small wiggling childling and wrapped her arms around it, the little one turned her head side to side, looking. Rooting. 

This was why they wanted her milk. She pulled her clothes aside only enough to give the babe her nipple, and tried to pull the extra flaps of the baby blanket up to maintain her modesty. Seladon looked back up, unawares to the new development. 

Every solder had indeed let go to Brea and Tavra, the two safely standing together, watching as Seladon fed the baby, not the first time they had seen Seladon feed a childling. But all the various weapons were out, ready for the attach the moment any one of the Vapran Princess stepped out of line. Seladon felt the chill of blades, all executioners, slice the air about her. 

“I’d never hurt a childling.” She stated, raising her head to look at the Lord Regent. “Please, lower your weapons.” The baby suckled hard on Seladon, drinking down her milk with loud gulps and take sharp gasps of air between. She looked down at the green baby with tiny brown curls and little gills shivering as she gulped. A drenchen childling obviously, that smelled of seaweed, but looked otherwise unharmed. She freed an arm and rested her warm pal on Seladon’s chest, just over her heart. Seldon ran her index finger over the back of her little hand. So soft. So very, very soft. 

“No, you won’t,” but the Lord Regent waved his hand, gestured to his soldiers to do as she asked. “This is why I wanted you.” 

“To feed her?” Seladon gently smoothed a hand over the baby’s back, felt the small wings that wiggled as she hungrily ate. “You could get any nurse maid for that.” 

“Ah, but you will not just be her nurse maid,” That ass smirked again, “you will be teaching little Princess Ladella how to be an all-maudra too.” He approached her, looking down at the baby. 

And Seladon just couldn’t help herself, “But, your All-Maudra died, and her childling.”

“No,” he shook his head, then waved his hand. A smaller set of doors, tucked away in the wall, opened and two male soldiers, Dousan, dragged Mother’s spy in. he was badly beaten, with both his eyes swollen shut. “I just wanted Mayrin to think that. Plus, I needed to flush out the tick.” He growled, then cut his eyes back to Seladon, “You’ll be teaching my daughter on the ways of queen-dom until she is twelve trine, then you will be returned to your home, just fine. A treaty-“

“A twisted bondage.” Sealdon snapped, but kept her tone low as not to upset the baby, “You want me to give my body and spill the sacred workings of my peoples, my government, to a child who will not only take the throne, but continue the war against my peoples? You are insane.” 

“I have already sent your mother treatise documents.” He calmly started, “they outline how, the moment I took you and your sisters, a cease fire was ordered across my armies. As long as you are my guest, there will be no war, no fighting. And when my daughter takes the throne-“

Seladon’s wings shivered as she realized that she fed his childling. Her milk was for his offspring. He reached out, and rested his hand over her own, over his childling. “I hope that the two of you can work towards peace between our peoples.”

Seladon felt her chest burn, and and- breathe. Just breathe. This was impossibly perfect and…terrifyingly delicate. If what he said was true, she would be giving the next decade of her life to raising a child as a hostage, a prisoner in foreign lands. 

“I wouldn’t be allowed to decline?” 

“No, you would not. You must accept.” 

Seladon’s ears flickered down as she turned back to the childing on her chest, her eyes misted up with tears and she would not look at the Lord, or anyone but the child, even as her lips twisted down into a suppressed cry. “I can’t decline the offer,” She finally settled on, “but I beg of you, send my sisters back home, safely.” 

“I will at the end of the stormy season, when the waves can be navigated.”

Thra, she whimpered, the rainy season lasted nearly seven unum, “then let them stay with me.” She took a breath, batted away her tears, then lifted her face to look at the Lord, “I am their elder. I am to take care of them as much as I must take care of your All-Maudra to be.” 

He nodded. Thank thra, he nodded. “Naia,” he turned to the Drenchen woman, “You are their chaperon hence forth.” She groaned at this, but he continued, “Please, settle them in the blue wing, I think it would be most appropriate for the three.”

“Brother.”

Seladon’s wings twitched again. This whole affair was unfolding into family one.

“Hmm?” But the Lord Regent would not turn back to his sister.

“Gurjin, how will we get the nurse to Ladella?”

“I’ll stay in the room next to them.” He waved then reached towards Seladon’s chest and wrapped his large hands around the baby who had fallen asleep on Seladon. Her little lips were still wrapped around Seladon’s nipple when she fell asleep, and Seladon was content to keep the baby with her, the small thing entirely reliant on other’s protections, on Seladon to feed her. And this male was taking her away. But, she reminded herself, he is her father. He would care for his offspring. The baby was brought to her father’s chest, then gently, he patted her back, between her wings, as he swayed and walked out of the room. 

His own sister pulled Seladon away towards the main entrance doors and right down more tall halls of marbles and fantastic tapestries and rich materials until they were guided into a set of chambers, the antechamber alone dripped in blues and golds decorations as a handful of women, civilian servants, waved them into a room. 

There the three sisters were stripped of their clothes, where one of the servants found another knife on Tavra and handed it to Naia, washed in warm bathes, hair cleansed and brushed, and rubbed down with oils before they were dressed in night gowns. Seladon’s eyes were heavy, after the kidnapping in the midst of a fierce storm, the terror of her sisters being threatened and the new found pessimistic life as a servant to the princess, she just wanted to fall into a dead sleep. 

However, as the sisters climbed into a large single bed, as Naia locked a thin chain around one ankle of each sister, that frail wail bled through the wall next door. Seladon sat up, but did not move out of the bed as the doors opened softly and the Lord Regent slipped in on silent feet even as his daughter wailed. Seladon pulled the little bow at her bosom away that tied her gown shut and opened her arms for his daughter once more. 

But she was not hungry. The moment the warm little body wiggled into her arms, Ladella shoved her little face against Seladon’s breast bone, where her heart beat, and stilled, wings flopping around uselessly. Seladon rested back with Ladella on her chest and started singing a lullaby, one she actually learned so many trine ago to sing Brea to sleep. Brea pressed to Seladon’s side and Tavra, on the other side of Brea, reached over and rested her palm on Seladon’s thigh. 

She held the baby against her and stretched her arm over them. She was there. She would not leave her little sisters. And the Lord Regent would not leave his baby alone either. He settled near his own sister, in a large lunge chair that would afford him a view of the large luxurious bed. 

As her thoughts began to fade to black, as she finally let all the weight drag her beneath this conscious world, her lingering thought was that she could only smell seaweed.


	2. Have A Seat

Seladon petted the baby’s back as she readily fed off her in the light of the early morn. Ladella. All-Maudra of the West. Her opponent and entirely reliant on her. She was rather large for her supposed age of a handful of unum, but then again, drenchen were large. The Lord Regent stood a head and then some taller than Seladon. And his daughter needed her, desperately. As her food source, and more. Seladon hugged the baby to her, breathed her in. Seaweed.

She sighed and in response, the baby reached a hand up to press to Seladon’s heart. Seladon adjusted her hold to something more comfortable and-

And someone was watching her. 

At least, that is the undeniable feeling of eyes not her own, resting upon her. And when she did look up, she met the gaze of the Lord Regent, lounging back in that great big chair, one hand slowly running his fingers of the decorative wood of the arms, the other hand was at his facing slowly running a finger over his large lower lip. But his eyes bore into her, dark and warm. 

Heat rippled from an empty spot below her chest and bloomed up, scorching her skin. He made her stomach flip flop in the strangest way, and she could not deny that she was mesmerized by his strong form seeming to respond to her at every turn. His ears would swivel to her when they spoke, even her whispers. His eyes were quick to settle upon her, usually when she had Ladella. 

But his gaze wasn’t testy, it was, intense and hard to pin down what he was thinking. 

But, but all this attention also brought a rather terrible taste to her mouth. She swallowed a few times, but her dry mouth did nothing to get rid of the taste. As she smacked her lips around, the Lord Regent moved, leaned forward in his chair, then stood. 

He silently walked to a nearby table and grabbed up a pitcher and tipped it. Oh, bless. Water spilled out into a cup, and Seladon felt her lips pinch as he put down the pitcher, picked up the cup, then languidly offered her the cup. She took it and- and gave him a short lived smile, looking at him to see his reaction. His ears shifted forward to her, all his attention on her and his childling in her arms. 

Seladon pressed her lips to the rim to guzzle down the precious liquid and quenched her dry throat. Drops of water sloppily evaded her lips and slid down he chin, then neck, to her breast. Ladella’s little hand that rest over her chest, seemed to be drawn to this water as she felt tiny fingers find these fugitive droplets and swipe them away. 

She pulled the glass away only to snap her eyes to the gaze of the Lord Regent. His eyes feasted on her. She didn’t like that phrase, but how else could she describe the swollen pupils, blushed forehead and licking of his lips. 

Thra, did he intend for Seladon to perform more personal duties to him? Was she for both royals? 

She shivered and pulled the seaweed smelling baby closer, covering more of her exposed chest, and scowled at him. Then Ladella squirmed, pulled off Seladon’s chest and arched and curled to sit up. Almost immediately, the Lord Regent lunged forward and snatched his childling up from her arms and brought her back to his chest, where he could easily press a kiss to her little curling hair and –

And Seladon felt naked without the weight of her baby in her arms. She quickly tucked her clothes together and tied away her bosom as he turned away and returned to the adjoined room and shut the door softly. He did not say a word to her, but then again, what would she say back? What could she say to her captor?

Instead, Seladon slipped from the bed, and stretched her body about, creaking and cracking and wings spreading. Every muscle pulled sore and she felt so bruised, surely it was bone deep. As her body relaxed back, and she dropped her arms and wings, Seladon leaned over Brea and carefully shook her awake. Tavra sat up, her face showed none of the sleepiness that drew Breas face down. 

“How long have you been awake?” Seladon whispered as Tavra stood on her side of the bed. Each sister reached in and grabbed Brea by an arm to pull her out of bed, towards the foot where she stepped over the foot board, onto a little bench, and then to the floor. All a careful dance around the chains of each sister. “How long, Tav?” 

Her younger sister stared hard into Seladon’s eyes, “Long enough.” Her brow furrowed, “He watches you, Seladon. It’s creepy.” 

Seladon sighed. Only her sisters and mother ever watched her feed little ones. “He wants to make sure his daughter is safe, the same way that I strive to make sure you and Brea are safe.” Before she could pull either girl close, the doors opened and Seladon turned to see several servants shuffle in followed by the Lord Regent’s sister, Naia. The servants were mostly sifan and dousan, and all of them were older females. They were all smiles and curtsies as they pulled the sisters away. Tavra was pushed to sit on a couch, where two sifan pulled out hair brushes. Brea and Seladon were guided to the large bathing room of marble and stone and gold and brass, where a great big spigot was opened to fill a large bath that Seladon imagined would fit all three Vaprans for a languid swim. Thra, it was nearly disgusting how enormous and rich this room alone was. 

Brea and herself were stripped of their night gowns and immediately one of the much older servants, a withered older woman, knelt before Seladon with a white stick that had a fluffy end. “This won’t hurt,” She warned before guiding it to Seladon’s core. She squealed ad batted away the older woman. 

“What are you doing?” She accused, but the older gelf just smiled. 

“It’s to take a sample of you. To make sure you are healthy. Our scientists want to be sure that the Imperial nurse to our dear All-Maurdra-to-be is a healthy one.” She again moved the stick of cotton back to her and this time Seladon merely look away as it was slid gently along, then into her, er, core. She felt it slip into her, gently rolling around, then finally it pulled away. 

Thank Thra, that’s over.

She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and allowed the women to brush her hair and braid it away. A thin white skirt slip was pulled onto her, then a thin billowy white shirt. Thra, these mad gelflings have to be kidding. The shirt was so thin, that she could see her skin, her darker nipples. She moved her hands over her body, but the servants pulled them away as they added skirts and tucked her shirt in. 

A few layers of petticoats then a top skirt of intricately woven in patterns of grey, black and silver. A silver material was wrapped around her torso, from her hips to just under breast, then cinched unbearably tight. Finally, A long dark purple scarf was wrapped over her shoulders and covered her breasts. At least she would not be exposed in court. Seladon blew a great sigh, well tried to. This thing wrapped around her waist was a torture all its own and did not allow her to take a deep breath. She had to heave her chest about like a loose gelf to get even some air in and forced her spine straight as a pin. 

Seladon looked in the mirror that- oh thra. 

Oh thra, no. Her form, her small waist, mature hips and swollen bosom, were accentuated into an hourglass figure. Oh Thra no. This was far from fashionable for the Eastern standards. “I look like a lewd courtesan,” 

Was he going to use her for more than his daughter’s caretaker? 

One of the servants shook her red haired head with a smile, then stood straight and waved at her form. Her uniform held a similar design as Seladon’s ridiculous clothes. “It is our high fashion Princess,” She sounded excited. “All the gelfling women are wearing them.” 

“Insane.” Seladon shook her head, then wiggled her toes, “I take it that your kind wear shoes though.” 

“Yes,” Then the older woman’s smile fell a little. Her browed worried, and she seemed to regret her next words, “however, my lady, the Lord Regent has ordered that you are barefoot.” 

What? Why in thra would he dress her so nice, but leave her barefoot like a childling? 

“He said, that you would not be able to get far without shoes outside the palace.” 

That horrible, horrible gelfling. Did he believe her so rebellious, so foolish to endanger her sisters in a bid of freedom? 

Seladon glanced at herself again, at least her hair was very similar to the style she usually wore, save for the silver jewelry and chains woven into her braids. Even a few lovely gems near her crown. The servants held up the delicate chain that bound her ankle guided her out. She was met by Brea, whose mouth dropped open and her cheeks warmed pink.

“Do not comment on the fashion, it is what it is,” Seladon shook her head. She was happy to find that Brea herself was dressed in an empire waisted dress similar to the Vapran style with long sleeves. And she had little jewels in her hair as well. 

Tavra though? When Seladon and Brea rejoined their middle sister, she was dressed in soft clothes, pants, a white shirt and high collared jacket, and straight legged pants with little jewels in her neatly braided hair. It reminded Seladon of the Lord Regent’s clothes as he wore earlier. 

However, like Seladon, Tavra and Brea were barefoot too. And-and-

“Where are our circlets?” Seladon looked to Naia. The girl did not wear any circlet, but she, like the Lord Regent, had gold beads and decorations in her dreads that left her head glittering. She shook her head. 

“No, they are symbols of power,” her mouth set firm, “Of the Eastern Empire’s power. And that, we cannot have. If the Lord Regent so wishes, he will issue you crowns of Western Imperium. But as his wards, you have no need for those circlets to state our title. Your chains do that.” Naia clipped the ends of their chains to her belt, then gently tugged on them. “Come. I must deliver you to the throne room.” 

She turned away and walked through the open doors. They again went through the opulaent palace, and Brea, as always, annoyed Naia with question after question from construction of the place, to the types of soldiers who stocked it. Seladon hissed as Brea when Naia flittered her wings and threw a glare over her shoulder at Brea. 

“These are not questions I can answer, nor would I tell a prisoner.” She finally ended the conversation as they came to tall doors, carved and decorated in golds and mother of pearl shells, and other gleaming metals, she pushed it open. 

It was the room the sisters were first brought into. At the end off the long red carpet, was the glistening throne, and the shiny wall was not a wall, but a wall of windows that, really were quiet beautiful. Every piece of glass was colored and the whole thing was a foreign design of triangles, circles and flowers. On the massive throne was the Lord Regent, Ladella in his arms with a little toy occupying her. Even the great big throne seemed too big for the Lord, who sat in soft clothes again, dark brown boots, matching pants, and a Green long jacket. A sword was on his hip, and on the other was a weapon that spit metal, like the other soldiers around this tall, large room. 

Brea gasped, “Look!” 

Seladon turned towards her sister and looked up to find, How in Thra? Another window, but a ceiling. The whole place was lit by the glass ceiling, also colored glass, but much lighter colors. It was really glorious, but Seladon did not focus on the image, on the ceiling really. 

Of course. 

Of course there would be more soldiers. 

There were several male soldiers of various tribes of this empire on the floor, standing at the wall or flanking the Lord Regent. 

But as the walls of this place rose, Seladon noted little alcoves built in where female soldiers, the flyers, stood at attention. 

They were surround all around and above. Thra. She was not to leave ever. Her wings shivered and she quelled her need to cry. At least Brea and Tavra would go soon, when the wet season ends. 

“Brother,” Naia bowed, but not by much. He nodded to her. Naia took a chain off her belt and handed it to one of the male soldiers who slowly pulled it, coaxing Seladon towards the throne where a metal ring was anchored into the side of the throne and her chain was secured to. 

However, when she could, she turned back to her sisters, “Please.” She called out and the pale eyes of Naia moved to her. “What will be done with my sisters?”

“I do not know. Perhaps a walk? Back to their room.” She shrugged, “As long as they are out of the way.” Breas ears flattened behind the drenchen woman and she moved closer to Tavra. 

Thra. Seladon was going to regret this. “Would you please,” She flittered her eyes to Brea, “my sisters love to read. Would you please offer them some books, just to pass the time?” Seladon’s heart trembled, and she felt like she could not breath. The next decade - no, no, more than a decade - of her life was forfeit to a little Maudra, but her sisters could learn as much as they could to aid their mother in the wars. 

And then, Seladon closed her eyes, and then, the offer for peace was on the table. Her contributions as ambassador, she would not name herself captive, and the influence she would have over the young maudra would surely unite or at least bring peace to all of Thra. 

“Would that be acceptable, Gurjin?” Naia smiled, her eyes softening. 

“Yes,” Seladon turned back to the throne to see him sitting forward, “Yes, but take them to the Conservatorium, the Grand Library of Kashath is only a street over. They may investigate both places. As I understand,” He slid his pale eyes to Seladon, “Vapran are curious and have a veracious appetite for knowledge. The princesses will be entertained until they leave.” He smiled, then looked passed Seladon, likely to his sister and her own. 

Seladon only looked back long enough to wave at her sisters as they left and the door closed, then, from the throne, the low voice of the Lord Re-Gurjin, rumbled and she turned back towards him only to find that she twirled about so much that her chain had tangled around both her ankles. 

“Please, sit.” He waved, but his throne, siting upon a dais only two steps up, was the only chair in the whole of the room. He intended to have her sit on the floor. 

Carefully, Seladon stepped out of her predictament and approach the throne as Gurjin moved Ladella to one arm. As gracefully as she could, which was not very, Seladon swept her skirts to the side and lowered herself-

-onto his lap.

She manuvered around Ladella to place herself on his lap, more onto his knees, but she grasped one of his shoulders to balance herself. And-well, she should have expected it, but she didn’t. She didn’t expect the hardness of his muscles, the sinewy that banded over his body and that held steady beneath her hand. 

She gave a gentle squeeze and did not expect the little curl to his lips as he kept her gaze, entirely focused on her the moment she settled upon him. “Comfortable, Seladon?” he rumbled, and her belly shook and her face got hot, but that taste didn’t return. Instead, her heart thumped against her chest so hard, surely everyone in the throne room heard it. Was she breathing? Did she remember to do that? 

“Very comfortable, Gurjin.”

His eyes widened, and his cheeks darkened, but not so noticeably due to his complexion. One of his brows arched and his lips curled a little more. “Good.” This rumble was low and it did something to her, something she was loathe to say. A hard tug dragged at her stomach, but the heat slithered down, to that spot between her legs. 

Oh, Thra.

Ladella squawked, waving her toy towards Seladon, a little doll. Seladon was grateful to turn away from the blistering stare, and the coldness of the large stone room invaded the small space that Gurjin had created about them. Ladella shoved her doll at Seladon who held it and gave a small smile. It was a little drenchen doll, but this was a soldier drenchen doll.

“Very pretty, just like you.” Seladon kissed the top of the doll’s hair, then offered the doll back. Ladella hugged the doll to her then laid an open mouth kiss on it’s head, at the same spot as Seladon had. Seladon carefully leaned forward, with her hand still on Gurjin’s shoulder, and kissed the top of Ladella’s head. 

And she didn’t smell of seaweed. 

She smelled of pine. Of Seladon’s home, but not cool. It was a warm and spicy pine and-no. Ladella smelled like Seladon herself, as if she were Seladon’s own childling. Perhaps, perhaps it was her milk? Perhaps the fact that Seladon’s milk was consumed by the babe, her body would exude a scent that would be more delectable to a prospective caretaker? 

These were things Seladon did not know, nor understand. 

“Allow the doors open.” Gurjin called, “Let the patrons in so I may help them.”

“Patrons?” Seladon leaned back, there was no way to make herself presentable sitting on the lap of the Lord Regent. 

“What I call the people of my empire. Surely your mother saw to her people as well.” 

“She did.” Seladon nodded and both of them turned to the door as the first few people came in with problems of all types for the royal to advice on.


	3. End of the First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who got drunk again...sorry, tried to edit, but didn't do a great job. Enjoy this anyways.

Naia was done with this shit.

She had already carefully delivered Tavra to the training grounds to work out her energy with the soldiers of Naia’s own unit, when the questions started. 

Princess Brea was limitless in her ability to ask questions, take in information, and almost drag Naia off a side street to look at something. Finally, Naia just scooped her over her shoulder, like she had done to kidnap her, and marched to the Conservatorium. 

She merely handed the youngest Princess off, well, set her down in the lobby and snap the chain to the head of the Conservatorium’s belt, gave him the orders of the Lord Regent, then walked away. Would Rek’yr be able to keep up with the Vapran. 

The Conservatorium was a massive building of five floors of books and scrolls, statues and paintings and taxidermized creatures from all over Thra. And all of it supporting the lighthouse at the very top. She should be entertained. 

And Naia would get an easy day off of –

“Lady Naia?”

She took a breath, center Naia. Center and focus. She would be Maudra of her clan one day. She should find patience. One day. Not today. 

“What!” She barked at the young city watch who stood before her. 

“An Easterner was caught entering the city on a flying ship.” 

“One of ours?” Had the Easterners tried to free the princess with a stolen ship? 

“No,” He shook his helmeted head, “No, one we have never seen before. There was a lone Gelfling on it. He’s in the dungeon awaiting interrogation by you.” 

Alright. Alright. 

Naia sighed. Into the dark dungeons she goes. 

.  
.  
.

Lord Regent Gurjin ordered the court closed at midday. He had scrambled around governing for the poorer peoples and negotiating with land holding wealthy. And his arm did not unwrap itself from around her waist the entire time. The two shifted some, little by little as they passed Ladella back and forth, bouncing on Seladon’s lap and napping in the crook of Gurjin’s other arm. Seladon would lean towards Gurjin as Patrons presented their issues, and whisper small orders that Gurjin took without thanks nor bite and- For Thra’s sake how could she not read him. What upset him,? What pushed his buttons? What did he adore? What did he respond to happily? What did he enjoy?

What about him could she control? 

All to soon, the doors of the hall closed, and She was gently moved off his lap as she stood, then took the baby. Slowly, Gurjin rose, to stand taller than her, and reached for the ring on the side of the throne. He took her chain and hook it to his belt, but then, offered her the crook of his arm. “Come Princess.”

“I am your ward, Lord Regent.” She bowed, but took his offering after she shifted Ladella to balance on her outer hip. 

“Ah,” His whole body sighed, and the air crackled around Seladon. Her heart thundered and she didn’t know why a heat ripped through her. He pulled her in close as he leaned down towards her ear. She huffed out a breath and -Thra she couldn’t breath and the heat under her breast only boiled. “I enjoyed my name upon your lips. You have an awfully fine voice.” She closed her eyes and curled her head back and bared her neck to him as a ghastly noise escaped her. 

She moaned. 

Gurjin stepped back, let her go. And growled. 

Cool air rushed into the space between them and small, strong hands steadied her. Only then did Seladon register the rocking wave-no, her legs. She couldn’t support herself. The cool air beat at her, hummed and wafted and she curled over towards Ladella, to protect her from the onslaught. 

“Breath, Milady.” The very feminine voice broke and then the air and the humming stopped. Seladon took a deep breath, then gasped up another. 

She opened her eyes to find herself looking into a dark face and metallic paints shining back at her. Lovely pale eyes were worried over and flittered all over Seladon. The female soldier’s wings quivered; she was the one beating fresh air into Seladon’s face, and holding her up. 

As Seladon filled her lungs, and her mind cleared, she looked around, to see several other female soldiers had come down from the eves to circle her, to disturb the wind around them, but all of their hand were bare of weapons and outstretched to catch her and Ladella. 

“What, what’s wrong?” Was Seladon ill? Was it that terrible body squishing clothes that was tied to tight around her. 

Gurjin’s voice spoke first, “I should apologize,” his ears were down, “I am ashamed to say I have entered a rut cycle. My scent must have gotten to you.” 

“What?”

“You bared your neck for him, Milady.” The same Dousan soldieress whispered, albeit loud enough for all to hear. “ Your body was getting ready to submit to him. Mating Dance stuff.” Her mouth was set grim and Seladon’s stomach flipped then fell. 

“No.” She shook her head, “I would not have done that.” She had been around males in rut before. She had smelled the intense spices before, but never had they bothered her nor had she acted upon their attraction and-

Was it because of the chain? If her mind submitted to this Lord Regent’s power, did her body unknowingly do so as well? 

Oh Thra.   
.  
.  
.  
Naia entered the small black room at the bottom of the dungeon. She needed a light to see her prisoner and start her own work. As she turned to call for a torch, a smooth voice rolled around the room. “Oh, please, don’t do that. I can see you just fine.”

Oh, he gave so much, “You’re a Grottan.” She stated firmly as she carefully slid her foot forward. She stopped in what she thought was the center of the room.

“I am, lovely lady knight.” 

She smiled. He saw her sigil on her right collar. “You’re eyes are very good.” 

“I live in the darkness.” 

“Yes. So why were you flying so close to the brothers then? Isn’t that too bright for you?” 

“Ah, yes, well.” He sounded nervous, “You see lovely lady knight, I was testing a flying vessel, but, then a storm came in and I got blown off course. I was lucky your soldiers found me.” There was a beat of quiet then, “Um, could you thank them for me?”

“Yes,” Popped out of her mouth before she could stop it. She took a breath and sighed, “My soldiers say you built a terrible flying ship. You should see ours, maybe learn a thing or two.” 

“Oh, wow!” The excitement was so strong, Naia was sure that she could draw her knife and cut it, “really? Oh wonderful. I’ll need to see schematics for the propulsion system and steerage. My calculations were right I think, but I applied them to the wrong mechanisms.”

Naia’s body shivered in the excitement that wafted off him, and she wondered what he looked like as his smooth voice bounced off the walls. “You are still a prisoner here.”

“Titles, titles.” He seemed to throw away. “Oh, can we see the ships now?”

“No,” Naia sighed, “I have some questions first. Although. I will need a light.” 

“Oh, but you are so lovely in the darkness.” 

“Can you even see me?” No way could a Grottan even see in this unholy pitch. 

“Yes, but please, My Lady.” He’s voice seemed careful to articulate those last two words, “let your darkness out. It’s part of you, and it cannot be hidden here. Not from me.” 

How dare he! “What makes you think I am evil?”

“Evil? No,” he laughed, and she like the way her skin shivered at the sound, “No. It is a miracle to see. For every moment there is light AND Darkness, together in one moment, that is a miracle so rare. I can see your light amongst the blackness. I see your halo, the glowing of your soul, and it is transcendent.”

“You have quite a mouth on you.” Naia closed her eyes to catch the single tear that threatened to escape from one of her eyes. Why was she crying? Perhaps she was hormonal? She was within her moon cycle, however, she felt no overwhelming desire to have her way with him. 

No, she was rather enthralled with his words, and even more, his philosophies. How is it that someone who preferred the dark was so light? So hopeful?

“And you have such a light in you.” He purred. Thra, he purred, and she could find him in the dark and she could grab him and-

Nope! “Guard let me out, I’m done.” 

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.

Tavra dropped the large male to the sand of the Imperial Training Grounds. 

When it came to hand to hand fighting, Tavra was fair with the males, but pitiful against the female soldiers who used fast and agile movements to bring her down. Still, she enjoyed the training with Bellanji. The large Drenchen male had set her against several Dousan and Sifan. He helped her up when the females and dropped her into the ground and corrected her forms in her struggles against the males, but Bellanji was always nearby. 

By midday, as the brother reached their highest and hottest peak, she could actually throw a gelfling over her shoulder and smiled. Only as the initial high wore off did she realize she had been looking to him for approval. And he had given it. 

She was a prisoner, but this was the first time in all her military career that she had been acknowledged for her skills. By her enemies. 

Why couldn’t Mother do that? Why couldn’t her gaze soften and she give a little nod the way Bellanji did? 

She had shaken her head and obeyed him, as he walked her on her chain to a shady area, where a fountain of cool water for the soldiers, bubbled. He grabbed a big ladle and swiped up some of this clear wonderful stuff and brought it to her. She used both hands to hold it as she gulped down the rich stuff then settled into the shade. 

“I would rest little one.” The older gelf rumbled, “We train harder tomorrow.” Then he left her, just dropped her chain there in the sand and walked away. 

Tavra would run off, or fly away, if her whole body didn’t hurt so terribly bad, she would be sore for unum at this rate. She let her body sink into the warm sand, even here in the shade, and closed her eyes and-

Something was tugging on her chain. 

Tavra opened her eyes to find several beautiful faces looking down at her. All of them Sifan by the fiery red hair, but they were dressed in bangles and bracelets on their wrists and ankles, flowing skirts and beaded little shirts that showed their stomachs where tattoos and piercings glittered and bobbed with their fast breathes. Sharp, but stark coals and colors painted their eyes, giving them an other worldly mysticism. 

Their wings were stretched out, more gold piercings glittered and hung from their ears and the delicate membranes of their wings, but one of them, did not have wings. Or rather, did not have the membrane. Off the bones that would have supported her wings, were instead “made” wings of iridescent fabric and gold and silver chains and shimmering jewels. She also wore a thin, gold tiara on her head, the leader of this little group. And it was this leader, this gelfling lovely, that held the end of her chain pinched between her fingers, but her eyes, like the rest, remained on Tavra.

“Her.” The most lovely voice Tavra ever did hear broke over them all, but not one of the lovely creatures looked away from Tavra. “She’ll be ours.” Stated the leader. 

They all knelt around Tavra and reached for her, smoothing their soft hand over her clothes, her body. Every inch. They pulled at her wings and ran finger tips delicately over them, whispering about crystal glass as they went. She wondered if they would open her mouth and check her teeth, and for a moment, she thought they would do just that as the leader cupped the back of her head and curled it back towards her. 

Instead, the sifan beauty pressed her mouth against Tavra’s. 

What in Thra was happening?

“Ah!” Bellanji’s voice broke through them, over them. His large form rose above the scattering females as he waved his arms and then, he scooped up Tavra, like a little doll, in his arms. “You can’t have her.”

“But she is to be ours.” 

Bellanji already turned away, Tavra tucked against his chest, he smelled of sweat, but it was not unpleasant. “You might be the Heiress to the Sifan Maudra, Onica, but this one is ward of the All-Maudra. Do you wish to defy her?”

The leader, Onica, merely sighed and wistfully hummed, “Come the festival, she’ll be ours. I just wanted to see her.” Then, she retreated, her lovely “made” wings fluttering behind her as the other sifan girls followed. Their hips swayed as they walked and the golds jewelry illuminated them and-and Tavra could not tear her eyes from the group, especially their leader. 

“Who are they.” 

“None you should be worried out.” Bellanji set her on her feet and grabbed up her chain, “Can you walk?

Tavra tried. 

At least the sand was soft when she hit it. 

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.  
.

While the two left the throne room, Gurjin had spoken softly to some of his soldiers and another courtier, then waved her along to lunch. A rather intimate meal at that. Ladella had been taken away to be changed by another nurse maid, which left Seladon alone with the Lord Regent, she tried to stay away from him, to keep from smelling his rut. She was thankful when he suggested she open the window next to her, and she did so quickly, taking in a steadying breath of fresh air. 

Then, together, they settled in the room by themselves, lunching together. The hour dripped along slowly, and small talk some how passed between them. 

Until, a long pause set in and Seladon was afraid to break it, merely sipping her glass and gazing off, out the window and the- 

Gurjin smack down his sliver ware down on the wood, “I think you should also sit as temporary All-Maudra.”

“I’m sorry,” Seladon shook her head then stared hard at the Drenchen, “You’re either crazier than I initially thought, or stupid.” She immediately covered her mouth and, oh, she needed to apologize. “I-I mean,”

He laughed at her. And she stared as he laughed, but that giddiness just tickled her too. “Oh please stop,” She begged as she giggle, huffing in her corset. “I won’t be able to breath.” 

And he did finally smother himself, but his eyes were still crinkled up and a little dimple was exposed by his delight, only on one cheek, but not the other. She did want to touch his cheek, to cup his face and let him rest his weight there. He looked so tired.

“You don’t want to govern, do you?” She asked. 

“Am I that obvious?” He rested his chin in a hand, “I’ll oversee you. I’m not giving you my daughter’s throne. I just.” He waved his free hand at her, “You were raised for this. You answered more of the poor patrons so perfectly, and negotiated the landowners directly, that they all stopped addressing me. They were bowing to you. They were talking to you to solve their problems. I’m not only inexperienced for the position, I’m not needed.”

Ah, here. She could win the masses, court the wealthy land owners, over trine though, then perhaps, stage a coup. Free herself and take the empire-

The doors to the room opened and the nursemaid returned with Ladella in her arms. The babe had been away from Seladon for far too long, her strong sent wafting into Seladon’s mouth. And Seladon greedily tasted at the scent, the richness filled her lungs and she snuggled the baby close. Gurjin stood, dropped his napkin, then moved around the table to her to drag out her chair. 

And she caught his scent again. Her legs wobbled as she stood, and she tucked her face to Ladella’s locks because, for Thra’s sake, she was about to present to Gurjin. 

She was so worried about him assaulting her earlier today that she never thought to consider the other. She would not to give herself to him, but she wanted to take him.

Seladon wanted to have HER way with him. 

Would he allow her to tie him down and mount him?

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her from the room, down the hall, she barely looked at the lovely things as she passed them all, only focused on Ladella’s scent. 

She was salivating by the time she got into the throne room, and she looked up to see a completely different dais. 

There were two thrones, Gurjin’s and a smaller, no less luxurious one. A small throne that he settled her into, taking an audible whiff of her hair before setting her on the cushions, all with surprising grace. She looked up at him, into his dark eyes that burned with baser instincts. The same instincts that sang in her veins. 

What was happening to her? Had she been drugged? 

She would start opening her wings for him soon. 

He sat next to her, hummed a deep and growly noise and ordered the doors opened for patrons. Then Seladon looked to him, to find his eyes on her, hungry. “The All-Maudra will see them now.” 

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She couldn’t sleep. 

Tavra slept like a log between the elder and younger Vapran sisters. Whatever, she had done today had left her in a nearly dead to the world state, mumbling goodnights to her sisters after collapsing with great force, into the mattress. 

And Seladon finally convinced Brea to put down her borrowed scrolls from the Conservatorium and rest her eyes. She fell asleep only minutes after. 

Seladon was suddenly plagued by memories passed. Of her anger with Brea for having her nose in a book and neglecting her royal duties and- and- Thra she just wanted to distract them both for the remainder of their time here. She should have been a better older sister, maybe she would have been a better leader that way. 

Oh who knows. 

She turned over again, this time to face both the Ladella’s cradle that was added to the room, to Seladon’s side of the bed. And she faced the door. The door that separated the Vapran Princesses from The Lord Regent. 

Naia had retired to her own quarters late into the night, just after Brea went to bed, but Seladon could not sleep. Could not think to when those flimsy door were the only thing stopping either of them from getting to the other. 

She could even smell little whiffs, just small traces, of him from her spot in bed. She pushed back the blankets and slipped to the floor, careful of her chain as she glided to the doors on silent feet. What would her sisters think if either woke up to find Seladon sneaking towards their kidnappers door. 

She stopped in front of it, her chain taught, not another step to be taken, but she carefully leaned forward and pressed her nose to the crack and breathed in, through her nose and mouth. She shivered, and her wings spread on their own accord. It felt good to stretch them, but something tight wound only tighter in her stomach. An elastic band that she wanted to snap, but she didn’t know how. 

Then, her legs clenched together, on a nothingness that also wasn’t right, at least not now. She set a hand on her stomach, over the cool fabric of her night gown, then slid it lower, to that spot between her legs and –  
The scent became stronger, nearly unbearable, and her insides wiggled and moved and she felt like she was stretching and contorting and contracting for-

The door cracked open, and a nose pressed out and sniffed loud in the silent night, taking her in. She followed the nose to see only one of Gurjin’s eyes.


	4. Too Many Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get going!  
> Sorry this is a longer chapter, but yeah, let me know what you think. Also, I never read the dark crystal, so I am making up 99.99 percent of this. Let me know if I get anything overwhelmingly wrong and I will correct it.
> 
> Thanks for all the support everybody :)

Seladon stared into his eyes, dark, but warm and piercing. He wasn’t looking into her eyes, no. No, a look of utter admiration drew his eyes up to her pale hair, then down, her neck, further….

She slipped her fingers along the seam of the door and brushed the calloused fingertips of his own. This was a male familiar with hard physical work. The moment they touched, he tipped his fingers tips from the wood, to her skin. Then his fingers were weaving with her own, they could dreamfast now. He pulled her hand into the room, and- His lips were so soft as he kissed the back of her hand. 

“Oh, Seladon.” His voice was so low and closed his eyes as he pressed his nose against her fingers, and breathed in. Then his lips brushed her knuckles again, a kiss, and “Oh, My Seladon.”

Thra, she was ready for him. If she would be here for a decade, then she would damn well enjoy it and take everything of him she wanted. She extended her wings, “Gurjin.” She rolled her head back, bared her neck and-

It started as a whimper, but Seladon was already turning to Ladella, her lips only parting to wail by the time Seladon had fluttered to her. Even as Seladon reached for her baby, she felt something else, something wrong. 

It was so cold. 

Ladella curled against Seladon’s chest, into her shoulder, not for food, not to hear her heart, but to shiver away and cling to the warmth of a larger body. 

Seladon gasped, ripped at the neck of her night dress, and tucked Ladella inside as her wings curled around the little body. Oh, poor baby was so cold! Seladon turned to the bed and grabbed at the heavy blanket folded at the foot of the bed and dragged it up. She set the thick comforter over her sisters, then she slipped in herself, Ladella settled between the unmovable Tavra and herself for warmth that they all seemed to be missing. 

Seladon turned towards Gurjin’s room, to say goodnight, to make him promise her another night, only to find him at her bed side. His dark eyes sparked with his little curled up grin, and he pulled the blankets up around the four, tucked them in, then kissed the top of his daughter’s head. 

Then he kissed Seladon, a hard press of his lips on her own, pushed her mouth open and suckled on her lower lip. She slid her tongue into his mouth. 

“Are you counting my teeth?” He growled.

“Yes, your missing one, but I can learn to look past that.” She reached an arm out from the blankets, cupped the back of his head and dragged him back to her. He only stayed for a few moments longer. Slowed their kisses, then petted his daughter’s back, over her blanket, and slowly departed, looking back often, and Seladon watched each step away from her. 

She watched him retire to his rooms, and she cursed the vicious cold that tore her from him.   
.  
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He left on an apparent emergency before any of the vaprans sisters, or the little maudra, woke. Naia bounced Ladella as she explained his sudden departure. Seladon huffed openly as her corset was tightened in the early light, the cold still clung around them, still stung her of what could have been. Instead, Gurjin was far into the hinterlands of his empire.

For Thra’s sake!

She instead fell into her duties, sitting as All-Maudra with Ladella on her lap as Naia took Gurjin’s throne, and watched over Seladon. 

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Tavra stood over her opponent, the drenchan male rolled on his side as he gasped down air, but Tavra reached forward and grabbed his hand, dragging him to his feet, although he only hunched over for a long moment, still huffing. 

She had improved over this first unum of her captivity, and every day she was escorted by Lady Knight Naia to the training grounds to train with Bellanji. She followed his movements, his routines. Met him strike for strike with her sword, then her hands when he took that from her. 

And now? Now she was dragging her vicious opponents from the sand, her own body shaking and brusied from the skirmish, they were never easy, but what could she expect, as most of the soldiers she face off with were castle guards themselves. 

“Thra, Tavra,” Bellanji laughed, “I should have bet money on you.” He patted her back, then pressed down on her shoulder, “But you should rest, calm your mind.” He never told her to rest her body, in fact, as he offered her the shade, where some quiet was, he instructed her on exercise to keep her muscles moving, but also to focus on the image of a shield. 

As she brough one hand up above her head the shield changed, from a wide canvas of steel, to a circlular disc, then further. In her mind’s eyes it transitioned from wood, to steel, to a luminious gold, then became bowler, then deeped and deeper until it didn’t look like a shield but, but-

A bell, unlike any she has seen before. 

The bell hung from a great painted ceiling if bright clouds and celestial skies full of stars and suns, diviners and seven female gelflings, Maudras?   
Her eyes followed painted ribbons to the finger-tips of metal female gelflings, in flowing tunics, but entirely bronze. From the bronze women, marble flowed downward and became pillars that followed down to marble floors of- 

A temple. Tavra was in a temple. How? 

Did someone move her, was this a joke?

The bell above rung, but didn’t move, it emitted a low sound that pricked her ears, then sang louder, and, another, another bell thing sounded from the side, illuminated by the fantastical stained glass windows that inhabited this place. And another, on the opposing side, but it was dark sounds, it wasn’t so loud it hurt. 

Tavra instead breathed slowly as she made her way deeper into the great temple of an god she did not know, as her spine wiggled in excitement all from the strange noise that beat in her breast, but came from the bells. 

She was all upside down and right again. 

Was that possible? What was happening? From training ground to temple, how did she ger here?

“Welcome.” A voice whispered over the ever present sound, and Tavra snapped her head around to find that lovely one again, “Welcome to your home, Delphini.” Her wings were still so very iridescent with fabric and jewelry and gems. The lovely one stepped from behind a pillar, wings and arms outspread and hips swaying as she came to Tavra, “When the festival comes, you will be here with us, forever more.” 

She stepped down a single stair, to the main floor that Tavra stood upon as the sounds all around filtered into her ears and became secrets she couldn’t keep nor tell. Tavra felt the vibrating noise shiver her bones, shake her wings, and every fiber of her being was unstable, even as the lovely sifan approached, the coal around her eyes focused on the fact that this sifan’s gaze bore into her and-

She wanted to kneel, the weight was so much, both the lady’s gaze, and the unbearable beating of the noise that had grown louder in the temple, but she would not. 

But then, a touch so soft met her shoulder and she turned, away from the winged, but wingless beauty to another. This was another of the group of lovelies that admired Tavra at the training ground, that touched her, one of the younger Sifans girls, naked. Her longer curly hear tossed over one shoulder and baring the other. She was naked, tattoos all over her body, glistening piercing shimmered in the damp light as well, and Tavra reached for her, wrapped her hand around her hips, brought the naked female closer, then hugged her to her all together. 

The Sifan girl opened her wings, and so did Tavra, who shouldn’t have, but knew why. Tavra did not even try to stop herself from doing so, as she took the female, freshly mature, into her arms. “Who are you?” Tavra briefly looked over her shoulder at the Sifan leader.

“I am Onica, Daughter of the Sifan Maudra,” She bowed her head, and closed her eyes to show the black coals and vibrant green pains on her eye lids. “and that is my temple sister, Thyfela. She’s been so excited about having our own Delphini and breeding.” Onica stepped up, behind Thyfela, wrapped her arms around both the girl and Tavra, then proceeded to pry her gently away from Tav-

“She’s mine.” Tavra tightened her hold, “She’ll hold my childling.” Tavra angled her ears around, to hear the bells great noises, both breathing and ringing and beating and-and everything in between. And the secrets, the ones they foretold now were of Tavra’s childlings, born by women of divinity. 

“We all will, my love,” Onica voice slid over them both, like silk. She should sing, she would be a lovely singer. “But not yet, Delphini. Babies are to seed on festival night.” Onica dragged Thyfela into her arms, where the female moaned in loss, and laid back against her, breathing hard. Her bosom shook as she started to cry. 

“Please, please,” but even as Thyfela cried, she curled into Onica, and twisted her fingers into Oncia’s soft clothes. 

Tavra looked Onica in the eyes, her light eyes were bright and winkled up in delight and held Tavra gaze. “I promise you, my love, we will find you festival night, and Thyfela will be the first for you. She is desperate for child.” Onica pulled her long skirts around Thyfela, and kissed her temple, “Soon, soon.” She whispered to her temple sister. Then, as Onica hugged Thyfela to her again and looked to Tavra over her shoulder, she smiled, in that comforting way that Tavra very much liked, “It’s time for you to go.” 

The vision faded, ripped apart and the Sifan beauties disappeared. The darkness and stark painted glass and cold stones all about was pierced by the bright sunlight and supported by soft sands and the strange salt smell of the nearby ocean that Tavra thought she had become blind too. 

She sucked down deep breathes as great big arms wrapped around her and held her close, as she was rocked and- and thra, she wanted the females, Both Onica and Thyfela- but she could barely hold back the storm of sound and thought, and – and-

“Hush, little one,” Bellanji hummed as he rocked her from side to side, as she babbled ancient secrets that Thra forced through her ears and upon her tongue, as she was ready to pass them to the Sifans in the temple. And a far more terrifying thought. 

She would have been happy to mate and bond herself to those Sifan, the naked one was entirely ready to carry a child, and Tavra would have seeded her, one of the secrets lain upon her tongue as an acrid sheet, told how to do so. 

And a single vision, just one, of her wives, of her many children. 

Of her life far away from the Eastern Shores, to never see her mother or family or people again. The bells secreted her a future in which she lost one family and formed another. 

And she cried, these though just, she could describe it. She would have children, and that made her breast fill with air so much that perhaps she’d float, and then, she’d loose her younger sister, ready to share any and all knowledge, and her older sister, with her cutting wit ready to entertain Tavra with games of skill, knowledge, and strategy. 

So she cried, pressed her forehead into Bellanji’s chest, and cried and cried, but said, only once, “Oh Pa pere, what shall I do?”  
.  
.  
.

Naia held her breath. 

Amri’s chains were thicker than the Princesses, and shackled both his ankles, but he was busy, running his finger tips, then flat palms, over and under the small decommissioned flying boat, a dinghy really, of the Drenchen Fleet. 

She set her basket down on the floor nearby and stretched her body. She had freed herself of her armor, opting for leggings and a long tunic, but she kept a sword on her belt, a habit she could not breath herself of. No corset though. She did not envy Seladon who was stuffed in such a thing every day of the last unum, or any other grand lady of the empire. They were in a little flying boat shack, her own actually, but a small offshoot room away from her imperial vessel. The space was lit up by the sun through a glass ceiling, but the dark yellows of the room reminded her of her mother’s citadel, of home. 

Still, the tall, pale skinned gelfling was utterly enthralled as he ran his hands over the boats belly, then up to touch the soft, abused sails that frayed in his hands. He hummed and whispered to it, as if he were calming a landstrider, then he grabbed the edge of the boat and dragged himself up, to look into it and –

Naia fluttered up, her wings working harder to lift her. Drenchen were made for swimming, not flying, still, she settled on the deck to find Amri in a tangle as he tried to right himself amid the chains. Naia knelt and carefully took hold of two chains and pulled them over him, runninger her fingers over his shoulders, then grabbing at another chain to untangle it and-

His hands cupped her own, “I did not expect a lady knight to have such rough hands.” 

Naia started to pull them away. He was right, her hands were rough and spoke of her hard work, but it was not…attractive. 

“No,” He grasped at her fingers and wove their hands together. “The reaching out, the taking of one’s hand.” He brought her finger tips to his lips and-Thra, she was shaking. “It is the beginning of a grand adventure.” He kissed only her the tip of her forefinger. Then he looked up at her with those big eyes made for darkness and oh so beautiful, “do not pull away from me, dear heart.” 

“You must stop, there can be nothing-“ 

“Hogwash!” He shook his head, “I am merely a prisoner for a moment, after, I will be free, and I’ll travel, and if I have my way, you’ll join me, to find a new home.” 

And Naia could not help herself in asking, “And what will we do at that new ho-“

“Oh! Wow!” Amri jumped up and ran around the ship, well, as fast as he could on fettered feet. He reached out and touched the wheel of the whip, then towards the wind dials and flags. He grabbed onto the wheel and spun it far to the right, and true to form, the floating vessel, although not moving forward, did pitch to the right. Naia nearly hit the railing as she stumbled over her feet, then she looked up at Amri

“What in Thra are you doing?” She cried out, but, but she couldn’t help to be- well her heart thumped, her wings shivered and-and she wanted to do that again. 

“Avoiding pirates of course!” 

She dropped her mouth open, but then, her lips curled against her will and she shook her head, and pulled her sword, “I’ll fight them.” She offered. 

And they played. For hours. 

They played all over the ship, and he seemed entirely ignorant of his chains, even as Naia ended their skirmish with dredded pirates to light a candle for her own sight and unloaded her basket of food and wine. Amri found a blanket and pillows around the workshop and laid out a little rest area towards the front of the ship, where the two lounged and ate their snacks. Amri picked at berries, even fed her a few of the tiny blue things, and poured her wine as Naia unbuckled her belt and set her sheathed sword to the side. 

Naia smiled and thanked him as he passed her a glass, but she could not take her eyes of the strange gelfling, taller than herself, with sharp features and hard muscles, but a lightness, a childishness that she so wanted to – well to continue, to shine. Naia took a sip of the wine. “Well, we have fought off the pirates, I believe we will have a moment’s breath, tell me about yourself.” 

And he did, “I have two father’s a sister, and a baby brother. And I help my family raise nurlocks.” He offered her his sleeve, “My jacket is made of it, it’s the softest-“ He went on, told her of everything

She ran her fingers over the fabric, then spread her hand over his forearm and- Thra she couldn’t help pawing at the muscles of his upper arms, then his nearest shoulder. He was in the middle of telling her about the caves of Grot, the lore, and the great tree that speaks with his sister, Deet. He seemed to totally relax back, he opened his arms and she laid on his chest, her fingers still working over him.  
Naia dug her fingers into the soft fabric of his chest, then into the muscle. “My lady.” He blushed. Naia couldn’t look away from the pinkness painting his pale skin. 

She let go and folded her hands under her chin, but she was unwilling to lift herself off his body. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,”   
Instead, his fingers tips gently touched her temple, and she let out a breath as they brushed away her hair, over her shoulder, then brushed it back again. Amri pressed the tip of his nose against her ear, then down to her jaw. 

Naia gasped as soft lips press gently to her gills. “Thra!” She clapped her hand over her kissed gills and jerked back to look at him. His large dark eyes reflected her own and, and burned for- for,

“For your,” he whispered. 

“How’d you know?”

“You said my eyes were burning.” He grinned, “I figure they are burning for you.” 

“Amri, what are you doing?”

“Kissing.” 

“No,” Naia rested her forehead on his chest, and he rolled more onto his back to take on her weight. Her body pressed over his, rested over his and she was sure he could feel the crazed beating of her heart against his own chest. She spoke, but it was all muffled, “No, you don’t- Amri,” She lifted her head to look at him, and cupped the side of his face, “Kissing a Drenchen’s gills is very. Very! Intimate.” 

“How much?” His ears flapped back, but his arms banded tight around her body. He would not relinquish her. Nor did she want to be. 

“Like mating intimate.” 

“Oh, no.” 

Thra, Naia’s heart stopped beating. Oh no? Perhaps he only wanted some entertainment. Of course, he didn’t feel intimacy for her, she was is captor, his interrogator and warden. He would at best find acquaintance with her, but no more. 

“Naia, er, Lady Knight?” 

“Yes?” 

“I am not a worthy male to you.” 

What in Thra was he talking about? Naia blinked and shifted and her hands crested his shoulders, “Amri, I am not a precious gem-“

“You are a most beautiful and bright light.” He exclaimed, but she held him firm. 

“I am merely a female, wanting comfort and connect from a male.” 

“You are a lady knight. I am a prisoner.” 

Naia kissed his cheek, “Titles, titles.” Then she moved down, and laid her head on his chest, her ear against his thumpity heart. She was pleasantly surprised and happily found that his wiry frame was larger than her own and she snuggled into him. “Let this be what it can be.” 

“I will,” he whispered, then pulled her tighter, ever more, “My lovely light, you pierces every inch of my soul, you know.” 

Naia smiled against his chest, her fingers wiggling and working into his chest, “Then I shall dim myself if only to save your soul.” 

His laugh shook them both, but his hands ran over her back, and slipped over her wings. “No, never, I am not afraid.” He kissed the top of her hair, “And I need it the most.” Then, “May I kiss the other side.” 

Naia lifted her head to look at him, in the waning of the single candles light, and whispered her approval before he twisted and turn and rolled them over, laying her into soft pillows. 

His mouth found her gills, and Hoollee Thra, his tongue! He smoothed over her first, then suckled at them, and “Your hand,” She gasped and moaned, threw her head back to give him more space and mercifully he continued lapping and sipped at her throat and gills, sending little hot tingle to her core. 

Her palms found one of his hands and she brought it over her chest. Naia ripped at the strings of her shirt, and almost tore her clothes as she exposed her shoulder and breast to him, then she took his hand and tried to press him to the skin of her chest. 

But he hovered, the heat of his pale palm burnt her own then finally, he pressed his palm over her shoulder. Her skin prickled at his touch, and he moaned against her gills and –

“Thra, take me now.” She sighed, throwing her head from side to side, she would only need a little more before she would climax. Amri raised up, over her, pulled his mouth away and looked at her. 

He raised a hand, and cupped her cheek, ran his thumb over her cheek bone and, he breathed out quickly as he dove forward and pressed his lips to her mouth. Would she tell anyone that she inhaled heavily as the little press of lips became more. That her lips parted for him, that he shared his breath, and thra, his tongue with her. 

He rocked over her, lifted himself onto his elbows on either side of her, and breathed out, then in as their tongue swirled together, and her hand ran over his back, then lower and-. Amri gasped, pulled his mouth away and stared at her, “That’s my fanny!”

“I just, was admiring the your nurloc hide.” She bounced her brows as she added, “and your hide.”

“Oh, my lady.” He laughed, but he didn’t go back to kissing her, “I’d do as requested, and if I only lived for one day more, I’d lay with you.” He sighed, and Naia tried to pull him back to her, but he would not come, “However, I wish to marry, properly, with a ceremony, and after my people’s marriage rituals, and.” He smiled as he ran his thumb over her cheek again, “ and give my lady knight my purity. Should a lady knight, take me on.” 

Naia took a deep breath, and gripped him harder, “Of course I’ll have you.” Then she giggled, “even if you are a virgin.” She leaned up towards him, kissed him again, then nipped at his lower lip and, “Where did you learn to kiss like that?” 

“I read a book.” 

Naia laughed and pulled him back, kissed him deep with a sharp inhale as he hugged her closer to him, “Well, I have more books for you to read.” 

Amri pulled away from her again, “Naia, Lady Knight, please. I intend to have many more than a single night, I intend a life time with you.” He sighed, “But, I did not stumble upon the Western Empire or your capital on accident, nor on my own.” 

What? Whatever is he speaking of? Naia pushed him, wiggled herself up to sit up more, but she did not let Amri go, “What do you mean?”

“I was sent by the Skesis SkekMal to find a way into the capital so he could assassinate the All-Maudra Ladella.”   
.  
.  
.

Seladon had put her baby in the cradle where Ladella fell asleep quickly, and the Vapran could not look away. She had to admit, little Ladella had the sweetest little look. Apple cheeks that were rosy even against green skin, a sharp little chin that she showed off as she gave open mouthed smiles, even to her elite guard. Seladon has caught several of the guards that escorted her about, grinning at the tiny wiggling girl that bounced and laughed and squealed and grabbed handfuls of Seladon’s hair, just to hold. 

And when she suckled from Seladon, she would always pet her little fingers over Seladon’s skin. As if the bay was comforting her. How could Seladon resist kissing the little hand waving around her face or the top of her hair tufted head. Or hold her close. 

Since Gurjin’s departure, Seladon moved herself and her little Maudra to his rooms, but left the door open so she could watch over her sisters. The two youngers seemed to enjoy spreading out on the lard bed more, but some night, Seladon woke to Brea, slipping into her bed, followed by Tavra who only complained of the cold, either way, Seladon held them tight, even as she could still pick up the sharp tang of Gurjin’s scent. 

Tonight, though, her sisters were still in their bed next door and she heard Brea shifted in bed, rolling over probably to snuggle into Tavra’s side. She sighed, Seladon should go to bed, besides, the thin shift, what she usually wore under her corset and dress, and now she had grown cold. 

Seladon sighed and ran her fingers over Ladella’s arm, sticking out from the blankets. She tucked it in, then made sure that the blankets were secure around her. That she would stay warm. “Oh, it was a long day, wasn’t it little one?” She found she preferred the lower classes problems, they did not argue with her rulings, and Naia would often agree with her, although she was noticeably absent from court today, but, not matter, Naia would be updated of her accounts by one of the guard no doubt. 

A squabble between land holders to the far north west of the Western Empire, turned ugly, and even Seladon did not believe she could advise them better. The only thing they agreed upon was to return when the Lord Regent returned so that true guidance can be handed down from absolute authority. Gurjin. They wanted Gurjin. 

“And so do I.” She sighed, then pressed her lips together.

“Do you what?” 

Why that was- Seladon stood up straight and twirled around to see, “Gurjin?” He stood in the door that lead to the hall, his form filling the space and- Seladon opened her arms but didn’t approach him, couldn’t get far on a bed-anchored chain. “You’re back.” He pulled the door closed behind him as he stepped it, and there was only a heartbeat before he struck out.

He strode to her quickly, wrapped his arms around her and jerked her into his chest. He dug his nose into her hair and took a long breath, sigh and humming and, “This feels so good.” 

And he still smelled of rut, the spice nearly overtook his natural seaweed scent, and-She pressed closer, tucked her face against his neck and moaned out a breath against his gills. He rumbled and guided her back, then onto the bed, she was no longer her cold. No, not as he laid her on cool satin, only to cover her with his own body, “I’d have you tonight, if I could.” 

The grand Vapran princess bared her neck and cupped his face. “Come here.” She ordered, “Let me see if you’re still missing only one tooth.” He laughed at that and with her caged beneath him, with her thighs raising to cradle him against her, he leaned down and-

“Gurjin!” the doors to the room were thrown open and Ladella let out a cry. Seladon wiggled out from Gurjin as he scrambled back, and she lurched over the covers to get to her childing and sooth her. Poor baby. But Naia’s voice cut into what was a cold and quiet night. “There’s to be an attack on Ladella by the Skeksis.”


	5. Filler Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I have ben MIA. I've rewritten the festival night several times, because it is so fricken massive. I pulled this from that chapter at random to throw up as a filler, but I am going to have to split the festival into two parts. The first part will be posted on this Sunday, but until then, here you go :)

Seladon rocked Ladella from side to side as she walked down the Northern wing of the castle. If she looked out any window she would find the royal gardens outside. Unfortunately, only so much could be seen as the rain came down in sheets outside. “How terrible.” Seladon sighed, and Ladella squeaked in response. And this was the only response. 

Seladon stopped in the middle of the hall way and turned around slowly. The grand hall was rather dim, she knew it was gilded in fantastic architecture, molds, paintings on walls and ceilings, and bejeweled chandeliers of rubies and emeralds and pearls, lit by the strange glass lights instead of candles, but put off only enough light to prevent Seladon from running into things. Not another soul was in the room, and her chain was just dragging on the floor behind her, unbound. She was not restrained. And she didn’t know this part of the castle. She and her sisters were moved around the East and West Wings in the last few months. And the Throne room where she and Gurjin held court was at the central parts of the Castle and-

Seladon was lost. 

She turned towards a door and pulled the knob. Unlocked. She pushed the wood door open and found a pitch black room. Well, she had some light. She pressed her fingers together and snapped an little creature to life, all made of light. An Unamoth, the symbol of her Vapra, flittered and floated over the space, illuminating the room. It was a bed room, all the furniture was covered with white sheets, but a bedroom all the same. 

A bright squeal ripped away from Ladella as she reached out and pointed at the Unamoth. “Would you like to see?” Seladon entered the room, shut the door and sat on the bed. She brushed away any dust, then settled Ladella there as the Unamoth still fluttered above them. 

Ladella was delighted. High pitched giggling, hands waving. Even her floppy little wings were wiggling around. They wouldn’t really be anything, certainly won’t grow in significant size, but still, to feel them against her arms was just, exhilarating. Seladon couldn’t help her wide smile as she waved her other hand, releasing another Unamoth created of colorful lights as it begins fluttering just out of Ladella’s reach with its fellow light made moths. She had all her focus on the little creatures to keep them there and floating.

The little one kicked and threw herself forward, but Seladon kept a firm hold on her, even as they twirled around the room, following the little creatures of light that Seladon made. Her only Vilyaya. Still, had she known that her little gift would please her little one, she would have let the light out earlier. She bounced Ladella around as her cheeks tightened up in an open-mouthed smile to gurgle and giggle. Seladon pulled her close and kissed the top of her head before the door to their dark room opened and the Unamoths disappeared and Ladella let out a small whimper. 

Seladon turned towards the door to find Gurjin’s defined silhouette standing there at his full height, chest puffed out. Seladon smiled, even felt her wings extend out a little as she moved both of them towards the Drenchen. He entered the room on long strides to them both, and although she couldn’t see his face, she could smell the pure aggression mixed with his rut as he reached out and snatched Ladella from her. Seladon cried out, “My baby!” As Gurjin handed her off to a Dousan female and barked at her that strange Drenchen language that Seladon did not know. As the Dousan left, she closed the door behind her, leaving Seladon in the dark, and alone. With Gurjin.

Oh Thra. She held her breath, her heart racing because, well, what does she do? What is she in trouble for? Why is he so angry? 

Will he hurt her? 

“Gur-“ She gasped as a small noise swept over her ears and strong arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her up. She scrabbled, over his shoulder, kicked and flung her upper body around as her wings caught air. The window at the other end of the room light up with lightning from the storm outside, and illuminated the room for but a moment. 

But just enough. 

“Let me go!” She screamed as she finally freed herself and fluttered to the window. Her fingers scrabbled at the clasp, but the windows swung open and the water slapped against her front, wetting her skin and drenching her hair and front of her dress. She spread her wings as she climbed out, the raving winds catching them up and raising her off –

She cried out again as the chain at her ankle dragged her back. She held tight to the window frame, her free foot still balanced her on the window shelf, and she leaned back against the frame. She stared down at Gurjin as lightning tore across the sky several times. He scowled up at her, his face wet, and jaw set as the muscle there jumped. 

“What are you doing?”

“You endangered my child.” He yelled into the storm, perfectly at ease with this, “All while there is a Skeksis running around the empire intent on killing the All-Maudra.” 

What would she say to that? Nothing, no excuse would temper him. “And what will you do now?” He yanked at her chain, but instead of prying her away from her spot halfway in the dreadful rain, he only stepped closer to her. 

“I am going to punish you for your-“ He opened his mouth, then closed it, “your disobedience.” He wrapped his free arm around her waist, now pulling her away from the window, but he didn’t close it. 

He carried her back to the bed where he sat with her, then flipped her over onto her stomach. “No, don’t-“ Her skirts were dragged up over her hips, then shoved to her waist as her legs were tamped down so she could no longer kick around. Her wings beat and flapped as she tried to push herself up and out of his grasp, and Thra she could barely breath through this corset. Although the corset was settled beneath her breast to leave her clothes accessible to nursing the baby, it left her unable to take a deep breath. 

She felt his large, warm hand spread over her naked backside, squeezing, then- “Thra!” She screamed when his hand left her for a moment only to fall back upon her with a smack. Her skin glowed numb, but it was less the snap of his hand on her skin and more the thumping force behind his strike. And, and something melted inside her. The room grew quiet and still and without looking at Gurjin, without turning her head, she flexed her muscles and wiggled. Would he do it again?

And he did, but this time, after this strike, he dug his fingers into her flesh and muscle and messaged the ache, that wonderful ache away. Oh Thra, what was happening? She felt slimy and wet and hot inside and her face was sweating because she couldn’t breath, but every time he stuck her, she couldn’t breath and her heart tried to beat out of her chest-

He cracked her again, switching from side to side, but always smoothing and messaging away the beautiful pains he brought her. Seladon’s stomach had begun to tighten, the muscles there quiver as they absorbed every blow, and her spine contorted around, presenting her backside more to his hands and pressing her chest and face into the sheet that covered the bed as her wings extended straight out, ready for-for-

“Oh, Thra,” She whimpered against the fabric and clenched her hands together, “oh Thra,” Another smack, “Oh, Thra!” Heat stretched down her legs, to her knees and her thighs quivered harder and harder and-

Another strike. 

She screamed, a wordless, meaningless cry as her already dark surroundings drowned into pure pitch black and-was she breathing?  
.  
.  
.

Naia pressed her blade’s tip to the cheek of Elder Cadia. “You will leave or so help me Thra-”

“No need to finish that sentence, Princess.” He smiled, his eyes were crinkled up in- that bastard- delight. “We have all the answers we need.” He waited though, for her to lower her drawn sword before her stepped around her and out of the cell. 

“Oh, Amri,” Naia rushed forward to her prone Grottan who hung, no, slumped in his chains. Oh, Gurjin be damned for ordering this. She demanded his chains released by the Prison Warden and her own guard of four to help her take Amri out, to her own rooms. She needed to heal him. 

He was not responsive to her words, but he was breathing, and his ear fluttered at her touch, so at least there was that. She watched as his body was borne by her own to a nearby lift, an solid room that would carry passengers and heavy objects up floors at ease rather than maneuver staircases. In the light of the lift, as the doors closed and Naia found herself supporting Amri’s head, she could see the deepening bruises, blood pooling in those many spots, his nose was bent at the wrong angle, and blood was seeping from his longer strands of hair. She settled her hand in her hand and dug her fingers into his scalp as she opened her mind and spirit to press her vilyaya out, stitching the terrible cut 

She had trouble with her Vilyaya since birth, was overwhelmed by Thra’s song invading her ears and mind and dreamscape. She remembered touching other Drenchen’s hands or shoulders, just skin, and could initiate dreamfasts. It took years of meditation and movement mediation to discipline her mind and spirit to contain herself and keep the seeping world around her separate. Her mother had lamented that she might be chosen as Delphini, but thankfully, the priestesses of the Thra Cathedral of the Crystal of Truth did not look at her at all. However, she did notice their unhealthy interest in Princess Tavra, a gelfling that, like her, seemed out of control with her own Vilyaya and dreamspace. 

Naia hoped that her father’s presence and stability would calm the princess, and free Naia from her duties guarding the princesses. Instead, her time was then captivated by this imprisoned Grottan, who, who seemed to be undoing all her work, both as a mature gelfling and as a Maudra’s perspective successor. 

The lift stopped and Amri was brought to her rooms of blues, greens, and golds where she ordered servants to bring her pitchers of warm water and a fresh set of clothes for Amri as he was settled upon her bed. She crawled in next to him and smoothed her hands of his pale skin. His white hair was stained with his blood, but she focused on the broken bones first, cussed at the bruised organs and internal bleeding. He would not have faired without her. 

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” She whispered as the damage faded from him, his muscles relaxed, and he seemed to rest. Two male servants removed his soiled wear and helped Naia wash him with the warm water and soft clothes. She gently patted at the dried blood in his hair as he was redressed in soft white pants and a shirt. 

A bell struck in the distance, signifying the rising of the second sister in the eve, however none could see brothers or sisters with the raging storm outside. Would it be gone by festival night in a few days? Would Amri recover enough to go to festival night?

“Oh,” She whimpered before she sent her servants away and stalked around the room, turning off lamps and building up the fire a little. She would need to keep him arms as he healed. Once Naia was satisfied with the heat, she proceeded to remove her own clothes, her armors, boots, and pants all in plan view of the bed, to keep an eye on the sleeping Amri. The few moments she took her eyes off him, he had been tortured for any information on the attack that he did not know. She already pried away all information on SkekMal that she could. Only information though. Shouldn’t Gurjin have trusted her on this? 

Naia turned away to her wardrobe and only opened the left door to pick a thin, floor length night gown. 

-Your wings are black.-

Oh, thank Thra. Naia spun towards her bed, and although she could only see by the light of the fire, Amri’s large eyes glitter as he stared at her. Her heart thumped, but she breathed and smiled at him. “How are you feeling?”

-Wonderful-

This time, Naia saw that his lips did not move. “Wha?-“ Oh, a side effect of her vilyaya seeping into dreamfasting. Eel feathers. 

-I feared you mated me while I was vulnerable- Amri’s voice was playful, he was teasing her. 

Oh that boy, “I’d never take advantage of any Gelfling.” She tried to pull her mouth into displeased look, but could only manage for a moment, before her lips turned up again. She pulled her gown over her head, wings maneuvered through it so that they hung out the low back of the dress. She approached the bed and crawled in again, then into Amri opened arms. He smoothed palms over her arms, pushed the shoulders of her gowns down as he explored her skin, then down her back, skirting the joints of her wings base, then lower to the small of her back. Naia tucked blankets around Amri and he watched her as she did, then tightened his hold, rolling them a little and brushed hair away from her left shoulder and- He tucked into her neck and ran his lips softly of her gills. 

“You need to rest.” She hummed to him, but he did not. 

-Later-

“Now.” She ordered, the effects of her vilyaya, her connection with his mind would wear off by morning, but he truly needed to sleep to properly recovery from his injuries, “You broke bones, and those take time and gentleness.”

-Won’t you be gentle with me?- 

“Hush Amri. Sleep.” She shrugged her shoulders and pushed at his chest, “lay back. I’ll be here.” And he did, dropping back to the pillow, but keeping Naia against him. And she held him close too. 

-Can we dreamfast tomorrow?-

“When your healed. Goodnight.” She snuggled into his chest and pressed the tip of her nose to the hollow of his collar bone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you all have been liking the story so far!!! :)


	6. Festival (1/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. A lot happens on this night, so...there's that. I didn't edit. hopefully it's not too bad. 
> 
> Let me know what you think. Stay safe everybody!

“For Thra’s sake!” Seladon cussed away as she gasped down against the tightened corset just beneath her wings, which flapped around frantically. The servants murmured soft apologies and little comforts as they tied off the strings and began adding her petticoats, stockings and stays just above her knees, and brushing her hair back. They were fussing over her hair and the braids, even argued and Seladon rolled her eyes at them. How could her hair be so very important today? 

They mentioned weaving her hair into nets, much like Brea’s. The thought of her littlest sister had Seladon twisting out of the sifan women to catch a glimpse of her sister, dressed in joyful pinks and soft light blues, with little lavender decorations in her hair. She was dressed in empire waisted dresses, and no corsets. She was still considered a girl, and dressed in girlhood fashion, unlike Seladon. Thank Thra. Even so, the youngest Vapran looked lovely. 

And happy. Scrolls and books every day in the Grand Library of Kashath, learning all the time in the classrooms and lecture halls of the collegiate that connected the library to the Imperial Conservatorium and direct contact with the elderly wiseman who ran the conservatorium had left her full of knowledge, daydreaming away, and singing. 

Her soul was at peace and her eyes were brighter than when they were home. Brea perhaps would be happy if they were never free. 

The younger turned her head, smiled as her eyes connected with Seladon’s own. “There’s to be a parade today.” She merely stated, but her wings shivered at her words. 

Ah, that explains it. The servants instead, put two brains on their side of her face, and left much of her hair groomed and flowing down her back, but the bangs over her eyes, having grown in her captivity, were curled and fluffed and carefully smoothed to frame her face. A powder was puffed over her face, then lip paints. The servants were giggling as they helped her into the final layer of the dress. They pulled the little straps of her under shift off and tucked them down as the smooth satin was pulled over her head. A thick strip of pale purple material was settled over her breasts, but hung off her shoulders, just under the hollow of her collar bone. And the dress tied behind her back, under her wings.

Finally, they deemed her presentable and brought her out of the large bathroom with Brea at her side. They found Tavra standing at the door waiting for them. She was dressed in the usual pants and shirt, but a thick jacket of grey hung on her frame with gilded shoulders and shiny buttons. Her form was accentuated by the belt at her waist and the sword hung from it. She was also given knee high boots and her chain was gone. 

“Aren’t they afraid you are going to run away?” Seladon asked, her own feet bare and ankle still chained. 

“No,” Tavra’s ears drooped into her brained hair, “I don’t intend to go home every again.” 

What?

“No, I stay. You and Brea go home.” Seladon tried to take in a breath but, was in her corset, or her terror. Her sisters can’t stay here. “Tavra, You need to be home, with Mother, you are a captain of the royal Paladins that guard our citadel-“

“Seladon, It is not my choice,” She reached out and rested her hands on Seladon’s bare shoulders, “There is a higher power that calls to me.” She smiled, and a weight seemed to be lifting off her head and- Why can’t she just go home like she is supposed? 

Seladon reached out and grabbed Tavra’s wrists, pulled her close and leaned forward, “Listen to me.” She hissed, “I will make sure you are on the next ship home, and you will make sure that Brea gets back to mother safe.” She squeezed, “Please.” Tavra didn’t look away, “I will give up my life, but you and Brea shouldn’t.” 

The doors to the room opened, and two guards stepped in, a male Sifa and the female Dousan, whom were amongst the guard Gurjin assigned to protect Seladon. They bowed to the gelfling here, then straightened, “Acting All-Maudra” Oh, that was a first. Seladon turned to them with her head cocked to the side. Never had she been recognized as such, “The Lord Regent has requested you in his chambers.

She sighed, “Tavra, we are not done here. Please, rethink this.” Seladon then turned to Brea and smiled, “You be good, and tell me about what you learned today.” 

Brea smiled, but her eyes were worried, “I always do.” That is true, over Tavra’s exhausted body, Brea would regurgitate her lessons while Seladon fed Ladella, before retiring to the adjoin room where Gurjin and Naia usually settled, although Gurjin has taken to slipping int the bed along her side, innocently cuddling with her, especially as she snuggled down with Ladella. He had been more attentive these last few days since that night in the Northern Wing. That night she still thought about too often with a stomach full of Unamoth, where he did something most wonderful and strange to her. 

Seladon also wondered if-well, was he guilty? Was what he did bad? She didn’t think so, but he wouldn’t even try to kiss her and the scent of his rut had become muted, but not gone. 

She stepped out between them and let them lead her down a hall, this wing was where the Lord Regents own rooms were, and Seladon was curious about him still. As the dark wood doors were opened to the front room, an ante chamber she was ushered into a room of white and black marbles, crystals, and bronzy brown metals accenting everything and frescos over the walls and ceiling. These bronzes were figurines were fish tails, seaweeds hanging between crystals, curling waves as boarders and, well, dessert skimmers. All of this painted a fairly obvious picture. A united representation of the clans. Seladon spun around to take it all in, her wings out to steady herself.

Would an Unamoth find solace amongst these too? 

One of the doors to the side gave way and she turned to it, a servant coming out and giving her a quick bow. Behind him was Gurjin, standing in front of a mirror with servants and personal valets helping to button his regal jacket, and pinning buttons, badges of ribbon and metal to him. A sash crossed his body, through the gilded shoulder pads as well, but He looked annoyed. Seladon stepped around the servant and entered the room, not a bedroom, sine it lacked the most essential of furniture for this, but lavish and carrying the same design as the ante chamber. There was a desk and chairs in a corner, but she did not go towards that. She did, however, approach the large painting of a beautiful, and notably pregnant, Drenchen woman lounging on a chaise with a familiar Dousan female curled against her front. The Dousan’s small, dark hands smoothed over the swell. “She’s beautiful.” 

Seladon heard a gasp and returned to Gurjin who approached her now, a belt betraying his wonderful physique and a sword hanging there, much like Tavra. His hair with gold beads snapped over his dreads, were tied back to show his freshly shaven face. That was something that was not in fashion amongst most male here. Facial hair seemed to only be grown on the much older men, but not on the young or middle aged. “Lovely,” He smiled at her, and his eyes crinkled up just a little. 

She fluttered her wings, and curtsied to him, bowing her head to hide her blush, “Thank you.” 

“That,” He cleared his throat, “is the previous All-Maudra, Ladella’s mother.” Seladon turned back to the painting, then she finally recognized the Dousan. The soldieress that had stuck closer to Seladon than any other, whom Seladon considered her personal guard, who flapped fresh air into her face when Gurjin’s scne overwhelmed her all those months ago. The Dousan that had escorted her here today. “I’m sorry that you lost her so young.” She whispered, “Even if we didn’t see eye to eye,” Seladon felt something unknot in her chest as the words slipped from her, “I would never wish ill of any kind on those who oppose me.” 

“I know.” Gurjin whispered and she turned back to him, “I’ve seen you with Brea,” 

“Oh Thra,” 

“You both are firecrackers with the most passionate of frustrations, but no matter the anger between the two of young Vapra, She always finds you when she is cold, and you open your arms and wings to her.” He huffed a single laugh, “And do not beleive I don’t see you fork off your fruit to Brea when she had eaten all of her own.” 

“You watch me too much.” 

“Well, I must, we spend most of our day in court together, or in those awful meetings,” Seladon glanced at him to see his nose wrinkled and brows puckered. Disgusted. Her own lips curled. 

“They really are boring,” She emphasized the last word, but giggled with him as he nodded. 

“And I at least must make sure that you aren’t running my daughter’s empire into the ground.”

“I would never.” And Seladon couldn’t resist just one more look at the painting, velvety smooth strokes and precision that left the image near realistic, like she would ouch a real living Drenchen posed there. If she touched the painting, would she feel living warmth from the Drenchen woman? “Gurjin, will you dream fast with me?”

“I haven’t done that in-unum- er-almost a trine-“ His ears folded down, “Not since Keveela-“ He didn’t finish, but he did wave towards the painting, the Drenchen.” 

Oh, no. “Gurjin, have you dreamfasted with Ladella?” He shook his head. “Oh, no.” But Seladon reached for him with an opened hand. No wonder he was all over her. Although he seemed to try to keep their interactions innocent, they did get out of hand, with his hands and mouth on her, and she certainly invited him, never stopped him. And he gave her no cause for concern of forcing her into relations. But still, he was thrown in a rut that she believes her presence initiated, a female caring for his babe, and accepting of, Thra, seeking out, his physical touch. He must be so lonely, even Seladon would dreamfast with her sisters when she felt the same dredging isolation. “Gurjin, everyone knows that if a Gelfling doesn’t dreamfast, they die.” Mentally first, then spiritually. Finally, the body would just waste away. “Come here.” She smiled as he mirrored her movements and reached for her hand. She quickly eyed a servant, “Please retrieve, the heiress Ladella immediately.” She ordered, and the young sifan bowed and scurried off. 

She felt large rough fingers fold into her own and her mind pulled away for a moment before her spirit nearly leapt out and-no, she was being pulled out of her own self to a brightening light, across places, layers, scapes? She knew she was moving, but passed or through what, she did not know. Colors vibrated between each place, but still she passed these archaic places, if they were places, and slipped to something she felt so familiar with. Gurjin’s dreams, no, no, his pure emotions constructed into a world not real, but reflecting all he contained within. His spirit. This was not a vision to share, but his state of being. 

She knew only surface information about sharing emotional states, the intimacy of such exchanges. That it was not often for a Gelfling to bypass the mind and into the spirit. She had never had her breath taken away at the coldness here, the loneliness. He was in the water, no, a sea. There was a weight at his center, pulling him down, it pulled at her too, into dark green depths. All of him fought to breach the surface, but he had been failing, had begun to give up. Then a creature swam gracefully in the depths, she could only see the shadow of this creature in his ocean, but its great big fins beat currents in the water that bounced him up, towards the light fracturing the water’s surface above. And that light was familiar, muted by the greenness of the waves, but still so bright. She knew the soul here, although she only had but a taste everytime she touched Ladella’s skin

“Is that-?” Gurjin whispered in her head, no, not in hers, in this state, all around the ocean. 

“I think so.” Seladon responded and she hoped he heard, “Go hold her.” 

“What if she dies?” A coldness raced through the water, “Like her mother?”

“She won’t.” Seladon was firm about that. She would not let that happen. “She won’t. Go on.” 

She watched hungrily as Gurjin stretched out, his arm and fingers and finger tips reaching of the surface and-

He touched it, broke the water, gasped down precious air of the top world that he had long missed breathing. And basked in the warm glow of the light, still reaching for it on calming waves. Even in the water, he leaned back as he held Ladella, or the thought of her, in his arms and on his chest. 

They pulled apart, and Seladon nearly fell back, breathing hard, her face was wet, she felt a tear edge at her jaw then drip off. Never had she experience a dream fast like that. She had shared images, feelings, thoughts. This? This was something else, an amalgamation of emotions that had created a world all it’s own in a place far away and maybe not real. And Gurjin cried too, his lips twisted down, tears flowing freely. She raised her hand and cupped his face in her own, slowly pulling him in and tucked him against her neck. And he collapsed there, as she felt his face pressed fully against her neck and wet her skin, she started humming that tune. The lullaby. Her lullaby.

He smelled of seaweed too, like Ladella once did, but fresh, not that rotten stuff that washes up on the beaches. She rocked from side to side gently, and tried to hold steady at his wrenching sobs that he smothered against her skin. 

She kissed at his temple, then looked up to see the servant enter with Ladella in his arms, reaching up and tugging at his hair. “Oh, look, Ladella’s here.” She hummed. Gurjin straightened himself and took his baby into his arms. She had seen him hold his childling many times, cradle her and coo to her, and watch over her even as she was fed and cared for by Seladon, but it was always different, like she was this weight. Instead, he lifted her with his shoulders rolled back, as if she were the one pulling him up. He turned back to Seladon, “How?” He held up his index finger, Ladella’s little hand wrapped around it. 

She smiled, and stepped forward, “Just like all the other times,” She carefully peeled the little fingers away, and repositioned Gurjin’s Index finger over the center of Ladella’s palm. “You need to focus a little more though. Babies don’t yet know how to navigate spiritually pathways.”

“My lady,” The Dousan Soldieress whispered from next to her. She guided Seladon away from the Western Royals to a nearby table, “The Lord Regent has requested this gift for you, had it specially made. He would like you to wear it for the parade, and, well, we don’t have much time, It’s be best to get it on you.” The Dousan lifted the lid to a wide box, although it was only a few inches tall, and revealed a dazzling set of gems and pearls, all set in silver. A choker necklace with fantastic, cream drop pearls hanging from it and between the creamy pearls were clear gems cut to refract light from a thousand angles. Three bracelets with matching gems and pearls, a brooch, a set of earrings, and a large glittering tiara with pearls hanging between diamond encrusted arches. 

The soldieress took out each piece and started placing them on Seladon’s wrists, then around her neck, where the stones settled heavily on her skin, but this was rather comfortable. Finally when she sat on a nearby cushion chair to allow the tiara to be put on her, the doors opened again to an older Drenchen couple and all the gelfling soldiers and servants bowed to them. 

Both were dressed as royals, much like Gurjin and herself, but in the emeralds and aquas, golds and pearls, of the Drenchen clan. The woman zeroed in on her, holding her skirts as she strode directly to Seladon. The woman’s skin was pale, but there was soft greenness near her silvering hair line. She was actually quite beautiful beneath her few wrinkles and set brow. She also wore a crown herself, but it did not sit on her brow like the circlets on the East, but nestled in her hair. “Let me.” She ordered, hands out of the crown. 

“Of course, Maudra Laesid.” 

Maudra Laesid? Drenchen Maudra? 

Maudra Laesid’s hands carefully cradled the tiara and she leaned over Seladon to settle it upon her head, carefully pulling at her hair, “Just to hide the cushion base.” Then her hands came around and cradled her face. “Pretty.” She smiled, but her eyes were searchin-no observing. Examining her. “And smart. I hear your politics have so far been successful for the empire.” She reached out then and Seladon hesitated, but finally gave her hands, “All you fingers are here,” She let go of one of her hands and snatched up some of Seladon’s skirt only raising it enough to see her bare feet and the chain around one of them. “And all your toes are here.” She straightened and poked Seladon’s chin, “Let me see if you have all your teeth-“

“Mother!” Gurjin squeaked for all the mature male he was. “She is not a Nebrie.” 

“But she might bare you children one day,” Seladon burned all over from her comment, “And I need to make sure she is healthy.” She grinned wide, then her face melted into a rather smitten look, “I’ll be a grand-maudra to two empresses.” She sighed although Gurjin’s whole face only seemed horrified. 

“I’d need to marry her first, Mother.” Grujin first tried to look away from her, but then found her eyes again, he turned Ladella around and held her to his chest. “And she’d have to agree to marry me first.” 

The Older Male walked up behind her and guided her away to Gurjin, “My love, don’t you want to see your grandchild.”

Gurjin relinquished his child to his mother, and raced over to Seladon, pulled her up with a little smile, “My mother,” He then turned back to the couple, the male holding Ladella who seemed perfectly content with the attention, “And my father, Bellanji.” 

Seladon perked her ears, “Bellanji?” She said loud enough to catch their attention, “you have been training with Tavra?” He smiled and nodded. 

“She’s a very fearsome fighter, I imagine she’d be able to give Naia a run for her coin.” 

“And you are the one trying to keep her here?” Seladon’s voice cut sharp, but Bellanji did not grow angry, rather, resigned. “Ah, well, the Temple Priestesses picked her. And when Thra wants something, who are we to stop it.” 

“What?” Gurjin sounded breathless, get his response echoed in the room, “I have to send her back, Father. I have to.”

“Whether you are Lord Regent or All-Maudra, you cannot deny Thra. She’ll be happy though.” He smiled, “And near the capitol so she will always see Seladon, whenever either of you wish.” 

This can’t be happening. This cannot be happ-

“My Lord,” The Dousan bowed to him, “The Parade is to start soon, please allow me to show you all to your carriages.” Gurjin took her hand and settled it into the crook of his arm. 

“What Parade?” She asked, but let him guide her down out of his chambers, into the hall and out of the wing to the front of the palace and out the large doors. Just like the rest of the palace, everything was marble, and golds and brasses with exquisite statues all around in celebration of the three gelfling clans of the empire and their innovations and progress. Not a speck of Skeksis acknowledgement. They reject the Lords. 

A carriage, with an open top, rolled up on three pill bugs, the bugs themselves were painted too! The door swung wide open. Gurjin climbed in first, to sit and adjusted his sword to hold the hand up next to him. He reached out as a hand hold for Seladon to climb in, even as the Dousan helped her manuver her many skirts. Seladon fanned out her skirts to prevent wrinkles. She finally felt more presentable, and gently touched the crown on her head to make sure it was still there. The carriage shifted again and Seladon turned to see Bellanji handing over Ladella to Seladon. “Here, between both of you.” And she sat the baby there, who immediately wrapped here little fingers around Seladon’s closest bracelets. 

She smiled at the little girl, so happy. She seemed at ease, and strangely, Seladon knew everything would be well. As her Mother always said, all will be well. Ahead of them were several more carriages. “Who are all them?”

Gurjin leaned towards her, “All the Maudra’s, their families, and their personal guard.” He petted Ladella hair, a mear whisp of tight curls covering her head, “First the Dousan, then Sifan, then Drenchen,” His mother, “Then us.” She saw his mother and father climb into their carriage, two younger females, girls that were dressed like their mother, then Naia climbed in in flashy military dress. 

“You have more sisters?” 

“Yes, you’ll meet them tomorrow night, there is to be a feast amongst the Maudras families.” 

Seladon merely nodded as the first carriages started off, then the next, and so on, until their carriage jostled and suddenly they were moving forward, out of the palace gates, towards the end of the pathway. She could not see beyond it. 

However, she heard all the noise. Cheering, and hurrahs and yelling of joy. They got to the end of the lane and turned down it, into the public streets of the city that she had not yet set foot in, but Brea and Tavra has had quite a bit of interaction with it, with the people. 

They turned and there was- so many gelfling, of all three races, fluttering in the air, hanging off stacked balconies of several stories of tall residential buildings. So, so many. If possible the cheering became louder, and as she looked around, careful to smile at the crowds she saw waving, littlings sitting on parents shoulders, bouncing as they waved nearly their entire bodies and stared. At her. 

Seladon waved a little, could see their reaction, their infectious enthusiasm as she nodded and waved at them. She glanced at Gurjin to see him doing the same, Ladella lifted to see. She reached out and gently took Ladella’s hand and bounced it, waving. 

Petals fluttered over them, and Seladon raised her eyes to find flowers being thrown into the air high above to flutter down. As she looked around, she saw banners and flags of the three races, the three groups that make the whole. Then the Imperial symbol outlaid in all three main symbols and colors. 

Finally, being waved by a little childling, then a larger one sashayed by several mature gelfling, was a Vapran banner. And they were happy. “Gurjin?” She waved at the group who hopped and waved back, nearly dropping it as they did. “Why are they waving my flag?”

“Because it is custom to wave the flag of the All-Maudra.” He waved around, smiling, but flickered his eyes to her. 

What could she say? Just smile and wave. 

As the road looped around, the right hand side of buildings ceased and gave way to the port. Hundreds of ships crowded the waters here, and too her amazement, so too did at least a hundred more floating in the air. Flying ships. He had a flying fleet of galleons with large open sails. The ships began fireing on them, more petals, and colorful, long ribbons shooting out of cannons. From the flying ships, sharp cracking rip from their cannons and unfurling into rich fireworks. 

She grinned, but rested a hand over Ladella, and Gurjin’s hand, as she jerked and jumped and twisted into her father’s chest. 

No one saw the shadow moving too quickly over the roofs of their buildings, or how it was aimed at the palace. 

.  
.  
.

Brea shifted the little Dousan boy, Bhem’Der, on her lap, hugging him closer. She had a gaggle of children all around, all of the different tribes, and all of them quietly listened to her reading a scroll of Childling tales to them. Severla already settled on their sides and she did see one Sifan girl asleep on a little mat, a grin on her face and her brow unworried. 

Rek’yr sat across the room, near a window, with his paints and a brush, working away on a canvas, although she couldn’t see it. She returned to the scroll, even as the Bhem’s hand rested on her own. He was so small, but he was so smart. Since the moment she arrived here, he had left his little school group to sit next to her, and ask her everything. And he shared. What a smart little boy, grabbing scrolls for her, making notes in his own journal alongside her own. And he always begged her to sit and read with him. 

“Princess Brea?” Her guard, Laqshimir, bowed to her as he stepped closer, giving her chain some slack, “The Acting All-Maudra had just arrived at the Conservatorium.” Seladon was here? Rek’yr set his brushes aside and stood. His dark eyes followed her and she felt that strange shiver in her chest. 

“I should welcome our most esteemed guests,” he opened a hand, “Would you please accompany me?”

Brea could never say no. She could not say no when he asked to sit with her and read all though Unum ago, when he asked if she wanted a personal tour, when he asked to paint her. When he asked to wash her cheek of ink, which he did so gently. 

And she could not say no when he gently cradled her hand in both of his and brought it took his lips and kissed the back of her hand slowly. She did not say now as he stepped a little too close to reach a scroll she could not, and she admitted that she had been requesting all the scrolls just out of her reach. Her guard has been discreet enough to ignore the two most of the time, intent instead on the perimeter for threats. 

So no, she could not say no when he opened his hand and she immediately rose, “Who would like to meet the Acting All-Maudra?” Oh, that was the right thing to say. All the children jumped up, hands in the air and bouncing before Rek’yr shushed them, reminding them of their current location. She slipped her finger into his own, and he swopped to kiss the back of her hand and then pulled her close as they left, towards the main hall as the children followed her. 

Brea glanced at the tall bookcases that lined, well everything, up the five floors were female gelfling fluttered back and forth through the massive center, between a large skeleton of a water snake creature that hung on nearly invisible wires from the ceiling. And glass cases that held every manner of taxidermized animals, she spent quiet some time looking at them. 

She nodded to the students who waved at her, she had been allowed to sit in some of the classes of the elders simply to satisfy her need for knowledge, and had become so well versed with the library, that often a student had called out to her to find at least the section where they could find their needed subject. 

She even read and edited their great, long thesis papers.

She felt- well, at home. Would that be fair to say? Tavra wanted to stay, and so did Brea. She wanted to be a conservator. With Rek’yr. And Bhem. And the other Childings, and the students, and the professors, and-. Couldn’t Seladon just let them stay? 

The several flights of stairs gave way to the main floor, where Rek’yr and she herded the childlings to the front doors, massive brass and metal things of highly sculpted décor, featuring the war that has lasted for nearly a thousand Trine, the glory of the Eastern Empire. Just outside these, was a grand courtyard that was still enclosed and roofed with a colored glass ceiling, where fantastic flowers were grown and another put together skeleton stood at it’s center and- and just beyond that was Seladon, hvainging stepped through the wood doors to the entire conservatorium, Ladella in her arms. 

And she looked, well lovely. In glittering jewels and a new satin dress and her hair perfectly brushed, her lips were set in a small grin as she took in all around her. “Seladon,” Brea called to her sister, who immediately responded. It was nice. Since they had all been kidnapped, Seladon had been far more attentive to Brea than in the last few trine at the Citadel. Brea stepped around the childlings and opened her arms to hug her sister, although- should she? Seladon was so dressed up, what if she ruined dit with too firm a hug. 

But Seladon raised done arm in welcome as she kept a firm hold of Ladella, and Brea tucked into her, even smiled as she received a sloppy open mouth kiss from Ladella upon her head. As Brea pulled away, she felt the weight of the childings and Rek’yr’s gaze upon her. “Seladon, these are the childling’s that is usually read to. They wanted to meet you.” She waved at the little ones, and Bhem bounced forward where he knotted one hand in Brea’s skirts as he leaned forward to look at her. 

“Are you going to be our new All-Maudra? No one knows.” He grinned big, but his eyes were so hungry for answers. 

“I-,” Seladon’s eyes widened, very obviously unbalanced by the question, “Just unti-

“I need to speak with the other Maudras before they head off to Festival.” The Lord Regent left suddenly, but Brea didn’t mind him much, he was an odd bat, usually deferring to her sister, who loved it. Seladon nodded, then looked over the little ones.

“How about I hear what Brea does here?” She smiled, “Who wants to tell me?” 

Oh, no.

“She reads us stories,” one little girl said, “She find books and scrolls for us, and the students of the school.” The second childing waved his hand as he answered, “She sings us asleep at nap time,” The little Drenchen girl twirled side to side and fluttered her little skirts as she blinked at Seladon through large eye lashes. 

“She answers all our questions.” Bhem added, “And helps me paint my book!” He held it open for Seladon who smiled as she made a show of looking at his journal.

“She sits for Conservator Rek’yr’s paintings.” 

Seladon froze at that, “Paintings?” She cut her eyes to Brea. Oh. No. “Do you know where these paintings are? I so do want to see them.” The little ones were excited, digging their hands into Seladons beautiful dress skirts and taking her free hand to bring her into the conservatorium, past the wide eyed students and professors who bowed hastily for the Vapran Acting All-Maudra. They dragged her down the halls and up the stairs and into the little study where Brea usually watched over the children. She folded her hands at her front as they brought Seladon to the unfinished painting. Brea turned to look at Rek’yr, whose ears were flat against is head. He was worried. Oh, what would Seladon think. 

She just stood there, staring at the painting. Did she like it?

.  
.  
.  
Tavra stood straight and tall amongst the peoples in the heart of the festival. There was all sorts of things happening, Nebri riding, fireworks and fire tricks. Magic acts and controtion and wild unnatural singing and acting. There was a theatre show at the climax to her right, the actors holding large dramatic masks over their faces as they regurgitated their lines. 

It was- wonderful. Unbridled. Not the tradition of her people but a mix of the three, the softness of peace of the Dousan, the loudness of the Drenchen, and the centering of the Sifan. It was- how could she feel kin to these strangers, yet she was just as awed by the attractions here as the other festival goers. But,- there was another attraction, at the back. 

She needed to get there. 

She pushed ahead, without her chain her guards were dhard pressed to stay with her, but she would twirl around and spy them struggling through the crowd to stay with her as she crossed the great event to a tent. 

A lovely tent. 

She entered. 

Seven sifan danced here. And they were all waiting for her.


	7. Festival (2/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Stay safe everyone. There is a weird formatting thing happening with the paragraphs, but it shouldn't be too disruptive. I hope you all like it. Let me know what you think.

Tavra stood at the entrance of the tent. Her lovelies were in the midst of a frantic dance, hips swaying side to side, their skirts billowing around them as they twirled outward together in the circle, then inward. Their arms and wings swooped with their grace filled movements, like delicate Unamoths fluttering in the air above her once home, the Vapran Citadel. 

At the center of the tent, of which the priestesses circle, were colored lanterns, one green and one blue, hung next to each other. The Sifan dance brought them near these fantastic lights as they sashayed around. Their jewelry twinkled, beads and sequins sparkled, and their skin shone like polished gems, and their hair glimmered like brushed red gold, all proudly displayed on an ethereal stage Tavra understood only through the song of Thra, bleeting in her ears and bleeding into her mind. 

Have they danced so much that they would be so noticeably sweaty? With a twist and another flutter of her wings, Tavra caught a most sweet aroma that wafted from them. Hints of lavender and teases of rose oils smoothed over their skin. Skin she would be kissing tonight.

Some of the girls were dressed similar to the first time she had seen them. Little shirts that showed their muscular stomachs and tattoos settled there, and low hung skirts that fluttered with each of their audacious movements. Except for Thyfela. Her hair was unbraided, a curling wild mess that would welcome Tavra’s fingers. She wore a thin strapped, entirely see through in the light of the lanterns, dress.

But- Tavra would not dare come closer. Did she prepare enough? The servants helped her bathe and dress and Bellanji tried to give her advice on mating, although it was strange and the large Drenchen turned pink as he tried. And he did try. He tried to explain how to treat a mate properly, with some of his own tips on female pleasure, but how to feed a mate after love making, or when a mate was pregnant and needy for care or craving. She was unsure how accurate his advice was, but he had been mated for many trine with several children. And-well, Mother never talked about it, other than “don’t get pregnant” and well, she never really saw affection in Vapra so…best she could get-What if she wasn’t good at this? Mating or being a mate? 

Thra, why was this so hard? 

Tavra stepped in and pulled the flap closed, entrapping them in here. Tavra found Onica, her made wings shimmering in the fantastic lights as she swayed to Thyfela, and pulled her from the circle, and into it. And kissed her. Onica dug her fingers into Thyfela’s thick curly hair, as she held her there, But Tavra stared hard as Onica brought her hands around the girl’s face and down her neck, then over her shoulders. Onica pulled the straps of Thyfela’s dress and pushed it off her body. Oh, Thra, Oh Thra-Here she goes. Now or never. 

Tavra took one step closer, then another and-

Thyfela’s body was cast in a dichotomy of blue at her back, painting her wings in blue. Red lit her front as Onica touched her, caressed her and kissed her lovely skin, traced her tongue over a tattoo that started at Thyfela’s shoulder and swung down between her breast, to her stomach, then her hip-

“No,” Tavra ordered, and while Thyfela jumped, Onica smoothly pulled away as she turned to look at Tavra with that teasing look. “I-I am to touch her tonight.” Tavra stepped closer as the priestesses moved around her and towards her. “She will be with my childling by the time the first sister rises.” The priestesses flanked her and she felt their hands on her forearms and running up her shoulders. And some of those hands were pulled at her buttons, but one set gently unbuckled her belt and bore her sword away before the nimble fingers tugged at her shiny buttons. She would be out of her jacket in mere moments. 

Tavra opened her wings in response, even as her jacket came open and hands slipped in, touching her, soft fingers running over her ribs as she was relieved of her jacket. She felt naked, only for a moment, as the thin material of her shirt, and she moaned as these warm hands pressed over her. Even several tips of fingers ran over the thin membrane of her wings, in a way that made her want to curl and her core begin to warm. 

“Of course, Delphini,” Onica bowed her head, her coal lined eyes closed and showed off glittering metallic paints on her eye lids again. Then she snapped them open with a sharp look at Tavra, a grin brightening her whole face. “Oh, Delphini, you must be uncomfortable. And thirsty.” She waved behind her to another archway, another room? “I have your favorite rum for you.”

Tavra cocked her head to the side, “I have never drunk rum.” 

“Ah,” Onica winked at her, “But you will. I would know.” She turned her head back and kissed at Thyfela’s stomach, “Go on, My love.” Onica pressed her fingers into Thyfela’s soft thigh, pushing her to the next room. Once the girl was gone, Onica purred as she returned to Tavra. The Head Priestess, as she truly is, rose to her feet and stalked towards Tavra, open wings shimmering and glittering. 

Oh Thra, she was not going to be able to do this. They were whirl winds, each of them, and- could she be what they called her to? Mate and Delphini for the Crystal of Truth? She understood little, except that Thra sang to her in what sounded like a terrible storm and she could barely fly through it.

Onica came forward, cupped her face, and slowly brought them together. Tavra jerked forward, nearly out of the hands of her lovelies, and bumped against Onica’s lips, but softened it into a gentle press. Onica tasted of sweet fruits, beautiful cherries that stained her lips. She sucked on Onica’s lower lip and reached out and rested her hand on Onica’s hip. Onica, for her part, unbuttoned her pants, but did not pull the materials down, instead wrapping her arms around Tavra’s neck again and swaying and-

Tavra timbered off balance, collapsing to the thick, rugged covered floor. Even as she stretched around, cradling Onica from the impact, the hands of the others descended on her. Onica rose up and tugged at her pants, dragging them down her thighs to the tops of her boots. “Don’t move, Delphini.” The soft hands of the girls pressed over her body, one hand slipped into her shirt and swept over her breast, then carefully pinched at her nipple. More hands messaged her skin, pulled her ties away and soon, she was shirtless, her under shirt lost as well in the tide of nimble fingers and searching hands. And all warmth. Soft words were gently whispered to her, and Tavra couldn’t help but admire the handsome faces of the girls around her. Her wives. 

Oh, Thra. This was happening. 

“Onica,” Tavra tried to growl. Really, she did, but it came out as a pathetic moan that- Thra was she that weak? That thirsty for her lovelies? “why do you torture me so?” 

“Oh, but undressing you is the fun part. Haylo, Vash, help me with our Delphini’s boots and pants.” Sifan hands, Onica’s and two of the other girls rubbed over the muscles of her outer thighs, where they jumped at their touch. Tavra needed more of them. Her boots were tugged at, then tossed away, and her pants followed. The hands ran from her ankle, up to her hips, then down again, over each other. Oh, her girls. She tossed her head to the side and moaned as one of the girls dug her fingers into the muscle of Tavra’s inner thigh. “Ah! There, but careful.” She had a bruise there from training only a few days ago. Tavra locked onto her sifan wife to her right, reached out, and cupped her face. She knew her name, seeping across her mind as slow and thick as honey. Her jaw was sharper than Onica’s and she had dark coal around her eyes too, but her hair was swept back and tamed by a beaded scarf, “Tell me your name.” Tavra ordered, “I want to hear you say it.”

Tavra already knew her name, the song of Thra lilted every name here and their pasts. She felt close, breathed their air all at once, tasted their breaths together, and felt seven heartbeats raging in her chest, alongside her own. She already knew what would slip from her mouth, but…she wanted to hear it from her wife.

“Fay’Sha, my Delphini,” She whispered, and shivered her wings open again, showing off glistening piercings in the colored lights, “I have so wanted to touch you since-,”

“I know,” and Tavra did. Thra sang to her, overwhelmed her, but translated and connected songs of other things, old things, new things, forgotten things, and things yet to come and all of this was being is forced into Tavra’s mind and body through the thin barriers that separated her soul and the physical world. Tavra already knew that her own unnatural Vilyaya was to blame, the ability to access this soul magics were the very doorways that Thra used to invade her. Tavra reached for the edge of Fay’Sha’s skirt, where the beads and sequins hung heavy. Even now, the song hummed dimly in the background, but it was steadily drumming louder and louder-

“Delphini!” Fay’Sha gasped and arched back as Tavra slipped her fingers alongside Fay’Sha’s thigh, and the moment Tavra met the edge of her core, the girl rolled back, ripped her skirts up and spread her legs. Thra, she was warm and wet already. “Del-“   
“Tavra.” She ordered, “I am neither a stranger nor your superior.” Tavra pursued her, pulled herself from the grasp of her other priestesses to settle next to Fay’Sha, “I am your wife. Understand?” Fay’Sha nodded, a little grin lighting her face as she breathlessly laved out Tavra name, but moaned loudly when Tavra slipped her fingers lower to the wet warmth, sliding down to her entrance and gently pressing and-

Her middle finger slipped into the fiery warmth of the girl as she arched back, mouth open wide. Fay’Sha rolled against Tavra’s chest and kissed and moaned against her neck. Tavra added a second finger and pressed deeper, encouraged by broken moans. 

“Oh, my little lovely.” Tavra grinned as the soft velvet quivered around her fingers. And well, Tavra could not help herself. She thrust into her priestess, watched her arched up, flap her wings, the muscles in Fay’Sha’s neck became defined and a vein here popped as she threw her head back and forth and- Tavra needed to see her climax, her peak. “Come on, my lovely.” Tavra leaned over and kissed her ear, although she eyed as another priestess with long, brighter red hair braided down her back leaned over the Fay’Sha, brushing her fingers over Fay’Sha’s oil and blustered skin. This one, Vash, eyed Tavra with dazzling green orbs that left Tavra’s cheeks burning, but all surface heat. It was Onica’s gaze, the gelfling herself settled on the floor nearby, watching Tavra and Fay’Sha and Vash, that rippled under her skin. It scared her more. Tavra needed to be more careful around Onica, and Thyfela, of all her precious wives. Those two songs seemed…more complicated. 

However, even as Onica glanced at Tavra, as she watched the display, her attention was pulled up by the eldest of the priestesses pushing up Onica skirts to bare her thing, then mounting the High Priestess. The elder sighed and whimpered as she threw her head back, tossing curly red hair and gold hair chains around as she whimpered and sighed. Oncia stared into Tavra’s eyes as she smoothed her hands up the elder-no, call her by her name, Desdimadoena. 

Onica smiled and stated to Tavra, “she,” Onica squeezed the elder hips and dragged her closer, harder upon her thigh where the elder moaned louder and tightened her grip on Onica’s shoulders, “Prefers Madoena,” then leaned forward and pressed her open mouth against Des-Madoena’s neck suckling to her shoulder. Madoena hummed and whimpered as she rolled on Onica’s exposed thigh, becoming frantic. 

“Please, Delphini?” Tavra turned back to Fay’Sha, breathing against Tavra’s chest, but Vash was desperate, “Please, Tavra.” 

“No need to ask.” She smiled and readily watched. “Go on, Vash,” Tavra voice lilted so low, “Taste her.” The girl smiled and blushed as she settled between Fay’Sha’s legs and-Tavra grinned as the Sifan girl in her arms lurched and arched up at Vash’s tongue. Her wings shuttered, then, like the sea, she fell away from Tavra, only to rise back up as a soft tongue gently laved around Tavra’s fingers as she continued to thrust into Fay’Sha’s hot, velvet core. 

The flexibility and undulating of Fay’Sha rolled and fell, a sea all her own, graceful and powerful as each of her muscles tensed beneath soft skin and stark tattoos and body art. Then finally, gratefully, she froze, held the breath of the two gelfling that caressed her passion, then collapsed, finally at rest. She tucked against Tavra, but- 

But another was calling to her. 

Tavra carefully rolled Fay’Sha to Vash and sat up. Tavra stayed, watching her priestesses gently kiss at each other and run finger tips over their glossy skin. “Do not get carried away.” But Tavra’s facial muscles pulled into a content grin, utterly against her will, damn it. “I will be back for you, all of you.” In the corner wives six and seven, Aulfee and Hevalle kissed and cuddled as they ran hands over each others clothing and skin. “Soon.” 

Tavra rose in just her skin, warm, and already a buzzing heat brought a sheen of sweat to her skin that she couldn’t find uncomfortable at all. Tavra smoothed her hair back, even though she did not let her wings fold down. Not for this part, but perhaps she should have kept some clothes on, if only for Thyfela. 

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Seladon was speechless, little ones anchored and guided her in the massiveness of this place, where books and paintings and dead, but stuffed creatures were. A cauldron of learning no doubt. Of course it was. Brea told her all about it every night she returned, but Seladon had no idea it was this much. If Seladon was not so wrapped up in the running of government or peacemaking politics, would she have the time and energy and curiosity to pursue such educations that Brea did? 

Would Ladella? Seladon cast her eyes to her babe, settled back, but eyes big as she took in just as much. Would Ladella pursue learning as ardently as Brea? Would she run her government on books or with iron will? When is one too much or not enough? Seladon would speak with Gurjin about tutors. Ladella needed many, to learn all there was to learn, and to guide her Empire, to help craft the official truce agreements between the two empires. 

Seladon swept her eyes over a stuffed fizzgig while the little children tugged and pulled her forward, passed it. The gaggle of children and herself passed the many gelfling that stopped in the halls or down the book isles who bowed, if not to Seladon, to Ladella in her arms. Movement above revealed gelfling leaning over balcony railings, over several floors. Closer to the walls, Seladon saw clusters of gelflings peaking from their classroom doors as she was brought through this massive place, to a great stairway. The decorations, cut wood, statues, and stained glass left this place in a state of strange existence, striding between school and temple. The term, no wonder, does not cut it when considering this place. Brea has learned, and will continue to learn, so much here with the professors and books. 

“Ah, please,” Conservator Rek’yr rushed forward, bowing, “Please Acting All-Maudra, there is an elevator to use.” 

A what?

The castle had one, but she never minded it because their were only a few levels and she rather admired walking all about the lovely place as she traversed with her guard, but she had hear of it. Just-what is it?

He waved to a set of doors next to them, rather large, and pulled them open, waving her into the small room with the children and two guards. Then, the whole room jerked and rose. Slipping higher and higher until her sister an Gurjin, and the rest of their guard, were out of sight and another floor came into sight, but they rose further. Three more floors later to the top most floor before the room slowed and settled here on the new floor. The guards pulled gates open and the children guided her into a small room nearby, where several bookshelves flanked the room, but dozens of pillows and toys were around the room. In one corner was a chair with a scroll on it. Across the room, near the window, was another chair, an easel, and a few bottles with a lone brush. 

Was this the painting of Brea the childlings mentioned? Before she could make her way to it though, the little ones began grabbing at books, showing her the fantastically colored images on the front, and telling her what the contents held. Bhem’Der grinned as he held up his offering of books and said, “The Princess will like this one.” He stated proudly, and Seladon reached out and held it with her free hand. It was a thin book, with the painted image of three Vapran looking girls, all wearing crowns, on the front.

“And what is this one about?” Seladon made sure to raised her brow in wonder, and turn up her lips to all of them little ones, whose eyes were full of stars and moons and suns. When did she stop looking at the world with such enthusiastic wonderment? Seladon returned her eyes to theh book cover as the little boy babbled about what was in it.

“Three princesses are rescued from the evil Skeksis,” That made heer chest cringe. If only they could know that the Skeksis are not evil, but wise Lords of the Crystal, if not strict to be around. “And they are brought to the Crystal Dessert Oasis, to the Wellspring Castle. Each princess marries a prince of each of the clans.” He holds up his fingers for each princess, “the oldest marries a Drenchen, the middle marries a Sifan, and the youngest marries a Dousan.”

Really now. “And do they live happily ever after?” He nodded quickly, nearly with so much force Seladon worried he’d hurt himself as Ladella reached for the book and grabbed at the edge of it. 

“Yes, the oldest ends the war and brings peace, the middle guides the spirits of thra on the ocean with the Sifan, and the youngest stays here and runs the conservatory.” He reached for the book, snatched it up before she could pass it back and opened it to a painted image inside the book. When he offered it up again, Seladon dared no take it, instead she used both hands to cradle Ladella closer, who seemed satisfied with this as she noticed Seladon’s necklace and wrapped a little hand around on of the hanging pearls. 

Yet, the image that stared up at her was of the third princess, the one who runs the conservatory. It was undeniable. It was an image of Brea. 

Seladon felt like a soother, uncovered the scandalous truths. Would any of the sisters make it home? It seems now that she will need to have Brea and Tavra tied up to be put on a boat for home. “Miss All-Maudra?” A little sifan girl with bright green eyes smiled a little and tucked her chin even as she tugged at Seladon’s skirt, “One of the paintings of Miss Brea is over there.” She pointed at the easel, and Seladon smiled. 

“Well, lets all have a look why don’t we?” She allowed them to help her navigate the room to the other side, and Ladela shifted so much in her hold, Seladon settled for holding the baby’s back to her chest and letting the girl look out over this cozy little world, where her little sister was teaching and reading to and caring for another generation of Gelfling, much like Seladon herself. 

Seladon looked up after traversing the pillowed room and looked over the painting. A portrait. A too good portrait, painstakingly painted with tiny strokes, where oils were messaged into varying shades to express the life behind Brea’s tri-color eyes and the warm pinkness applied to her skin, to show her heart beating. Each strand of hair was swiped onto the canvas, even some little fly away, and her barely noticeable freckles at her jaw and usually carefully hidden by her hair were present in a way that left Seladon expecting this image to take a breath and speak. 

And in that, lies the problem Seladon was too late to stop. Brea loved it here. She loved the childlings, she loved the education access, the professors, the scrolls and books. She loved speaking with the students and sharing their ideas and- and possibly, she loved someone here. Whoever painted this image may have strong feelings, if not the same, for Brea. Who was the painter? The Conservator was it?

Could Thra take mercy on her once. Just once. Seladon pressed her lips into a thin line as she suppressed a sob. Stolen, sure. She could handle that. Become a mother to a baby? Yes, she never spent so much time with a childling before, and couldn’t imagine being without Ladella now. Become a governor on behalf of the Lord Regent who kidnapped your sisters? Fine, she had few, if most were small, qualms with her own feelings for him. That she could handle. 

Breaking her sisters hearts, who were kidnapped with her, because they found they like their kidnappers home better than their own? What was she supposed to do with that? 

Put it from your mind. Seladon decided. She would only begin to strategize how to handle this after the celebrations, there were three days of dinners and parties and entertaining of the royal families yet to come. After, she would get to business. 

“There is one on the other side of this room, of Miss Brea reading and looking out the window. And another one, but I haven’t seen it,” Bhem’Der stated. Yes, the children mentioned a plural paintings. “Conservator Rek’yr says were not allowed to see.”

“Do you know where he would keep it?” Seladon asked, 

“In his office, but the office is always locked when he is not inside.” Bhem pointed at the door they had all come in, but passed this entrance, across the hall stood a large door. Seladon walked to it, the children having settled around the room and leaving her free of her little anchors, safe for the chain held by a Drenchen guard. Her Dousan guard trotted forward though, spread her wings in the hall and took off. 

Only when Seladon stepped through a looked up did she see the Dousan woman slip into a large open window on another floor. She heard some jiggling and thumping then, the door swung open form them. “Thank you- er?” She waited, and the soldieress blinked big eyes at her before scraping in a breath. 

“Oh, oh, yes, ah, I’m Niash’Na, Acting All-Maudra.” She gave a little bow and stepped aside for Seladon and Ladella. Seladon turned her head and eyed the drenchen soldier. 

“I’m Vron,” he bowed, but kept his warm eyes on Ladella as she squirmed and snuffled. She would need to be fed and changed soon, but Seladon wanted to see this painting first. They meandered around the office, no canvas, or canvas like shape, stuck out. “There is a second floor, Niash would have had to come through.” Seladon nodded and moved further into the room of rich woods and fantastical sculptures littered with books and scrolls and drawings. She found the staircase in the back corner and climbed up, lifted her skirts and pulled Ladella closer who grabbed her necklace with both hands now, but didn’t pull, merely held them. Seladon took the chance to kiss Ladella’s forehead. She came to the top of the stairs and came around the corner, where there were several objects, statues, curious curios, several pieces of art, landscapes, protraits, images of dramatic or staged wars. On side was occupied by a massive and spilling over bookcase. 

Then far, in the corner, and nearly inconspicuous, was a sheet covered object that looked like a canvas and easel. That she approached as she heard her guards follow her with heavy steps. She reached out, grabbed the corner, and pulled. 

“Oh, Thra! Burn it!”

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The archway was cast by the strange amalgamation of blue and green lights on the blacked entrance and- and Thra, Thyfela smelled divine. Tavra tentatively stepped not the room, her nose leading her to her Sifan mystic, illuminated by a single rogue crack in the tent, where celestial light pierced and shone on her stomach. Tavra slunk closer and closer and could make out black curves of tattoos meeting on her stomach under the light, but it convulsed with the muscles. Finally, she stood over the girl, a foot on either side of the Thyfela’s undulating hips, “Have you brought yourself to climax yet?” 

A snuffle, then a whimper. “No,” Ah, she sounded so broken. Tavra lowered herself over her, purring, and shushing. 

“Don’t cry, my Lovely,” Tavra would take care of her, as she would all her wives. “Don’t cry. I’ll love you, whatever is needed.” Tavra dragged her into her arms, Thyfela’s oiled body felt like butter, luxurious and endless, and crushed her mouth over Thyfela’s. Tavra growled as she tasted her bloody lower lip. Bitten. “Oh, dear,” She mumbled away and licked at her poor lip, “I can smell your desperation, but I didn’t realize you were hurting. Relax, lovely, your heat will see you through this.” 

“No, wait.” Thyfela twisted. Away. She sat up and Tavra could hear her panting in the darkness. “Wait, wait.”

Tavra reached for her, found her hips and stomach, her strong little form, and placed a firm grip on her. “We can wait,” She promised, but lowered Thyfela back to the thick carpet bedding that the priestesses had settled here. “Careful.” Tavra hummed, then laid down next to Thyfela, pressing all of her body against the priestess. She felt the fear, the quick heartbeats of her wife. Careful. Thra sang a song of heat and mating, of childlings and strangeness. “Do you not know me?”

“No.” came the breathless whisper, “Will you show me?” 

Yes. Always. Tavra reached out of the girl and rested her hand on her bare shoulder. Slowly, Tavra traced her finger tips down, to Thyfela’s elbow, then lower, for her hand. As she tripped over the sifan’s knuckles, Tavra’s ear twitched at another sound. Someone had entered the room. The ringing song found the newcomer’s cords and struck them into a most phantasmagorical, ever changing, even calming, sound. Tavra hoped Thyfela could hear her, but-

“Onica.” Tavra sighed, “Come dreamfast with us.” The soft tinkle of her clothes gave her away as the Sifan mystic leader. Onica made a small noise in agreement before orange bloomed above them. Another lantern, this one nearly red, set off the warm orange color over the three of them and glittered off her mystics metal adornments and oiled skin. Tavra turned to Thyfela, laid out against her, completely naked and unbearably warm. Tavra felt Onica moved around them only to settle at Tavra’s back, brushing aside her pale purple hair and- Thra, her lips felt so good. 

Tavra sighed as she wiggled her fingers between Thyfela’s fingers, happy to find the warmth of the girl, her song still alive and strong. And pressed in. The explosion and exchange of thoughts, ideas, and memories flowed back and forth, Tavra throwing herself out the window of the highest tower of the citadel to catch air for the first time in her seven trine of life, then later, much later, when she was older and found herself flirting, then laying, with an older spriton female who taught her the ways of femme love making. And Tavra took Thyfela’s thoughts. The sifan frightened of the water, when her mother first threw her into the sea to learn, she froze. Tavra couldn’t breathe, as the water over took them, her rich blue wings did not move, did not push her to the surface nor did any of her limbs. Thyfela would die beneath the waves-

A strong current brought her up, arms wrapped under and around her, until she, herself and Tavra, broke the surface. The drenched girl pushed wet, red hair from her face and looked at her savior. And older face, another Sifan, but beautiful. Her yellow spotted, pink wings were not made for water like the Drenchen’s, yet she used them to buoy them both. For the first time in forever, Thyfela’s essence knew it was right where it needed to be, until her Delphini would arrive for her. 

The older female was in the next room, Tavra had felt her fingers free a button of her coat and she had been brought to a peak with Onica, and that female had brought Thyfela to the Cathedral of Thra. “Do you want me to call Madoena in?” Tavra whispered over their connection. 

Thyfela refused, “Just us now. And Onica.” The memories of first meeting Onica was warm and calm, meeting in a room, dreamfasting through prayers and sipping at the Vliyas of Thra. The work of the priestesses were tireless, but most fulfilling in Thyfela’s chest. The cathedral had become heer home more perfect than any ship, a ship more sure on any sea. 

Tavra showed her the Citadel, the cold walls, the chilling winds of Claw Mountains where she would escape to when her duties and status became too much. She showed Thyfela the raging fire of the dark caves that would shelter her where she would build up a furnace to keep warm through the storms instead of limping home to her mother and whatever Lord was at the Citadel this time. 

Tavra found herself begging her mother to go with Seladon and Brea on the ships to the castle of the Crystal to see the ending events of the great tithe, although the tithe was incredibly stressful this trine, her mother had relented. Tavra was on the decks with Two Spriton Soldiers in the middle of a storm that dumped rain upon them and launched up from the sea. Well, until several creatures did launch from the Sea. 

Drenchen! Tavra pulled her sword, but a firm finger pressed into her neck from behind and her mind fell silent to the Sifan solder who had snuck up on her. The Drenchen had tied up the Spriton gaurds, and delved beneath the deck, “This one had the seal of the Royal Vapran house hold.” A female Drenchen yelled as she stabbed her finger into Tavra’s shoulder. “She’s the Vapran Princess, let’s go-“

“I have a Vapran Princess,” called another one who hefted Brea on his shoulder as he climbed from the hold. 

“No, I got the Vapran Princess,” Two drenchen Females followed, and Tavra stood there, with her sisters, getting soaked in the rain as the female closest to her growled and waved her hand. Yelling began on the ship, and the female ordered all three come. 

“Bring them all, we will figure this out later, it’s time for us to go.”

Thyfela pulled them both from the terror of the ship to the wonderous moment they first saw her, a great big Drenchen helping her with the spiritual movements to open Vliyaya lines and to balance a fighters stance and open their mind to eh battlefield of which they will dance. Thyfela showed how she and her sister priestesses leaned over Onica and Madoena’s shoulders to stare at the source of a great song leaking out, a sound growing, painfully pure. And just hearing the song Thyfela felt her own vliyaya vibrate and grow. “That is our Delphini.” Onica had announced. 

Then, when Tavra rested in the said, her pale hair haloed around her, Thyfela, nor her sisters, could resist reaching out and touching the burning source of the song. Their Delphini, home with them at last. 

Tavra pulled away from the dreamfast, to find Thyfela and Oncia twisted and tangled around her. Onica gasped, and kissed at Tavra’s shoulder again, suckling. Tavra pressed forward and kissed Thyfela, although she shifted her wings around to allow Onica closer against her spine. 

Thyfela sighed against Tavra, and the noise burned in Tavra’s chest as her heart thundered and she had to remind herself to breath as she kissed at Thyfela because, for Thra’s sake she was about to steep her and it’s such a delicate process. As outer legs were thrown over Tavra’s hips, from both directions, the Vapran princess rolled her fingers over her velvet skin of her shoulder, then over her breast, careful to catch a nipple and tug at it. She didn’t spend much time here though, and kept going, curling her fingers around and cradling her small breast, then slipping along the strong muscles of her stomach that twitched at her touch. 

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Tavra murmured against Thyfela’s lips. Tavra moaned into the girls mouth as Onica reached between her legs and slipped a gentle touch along her lower stomach, then further as Onica moved her lips from Tavra’s shoulder to her neck, then further, along her jaw…her ear. 

“She won’t want you to.” Onica whispered into Tavra ear as Thyfela fell into soft whimpers. Tavra shifted just a little, baring Onica’s weight only for a moment before the girl slid away and took Tavra spot against Thyfela’s side. She propped herself up on one hand while her fre hand spread over Thyfela as Tavra held herself over the girl, hefted her leg higher on Tavra hip and shifted her until-well, until Tavra could press her core against Thyfela’s. She felt Thyfela’s wet warmth quiver at their touch, but she sighed and her shoulders relaxed, her head tipped back and she started to arch her back a little as Tavra began rocking. Tavra reached up, over Onica, and grabbed one of Thyfela’s hands, in essence trapping Onica in their movements in the action. 

Tavra began rocking, but her body jolted, because, well she did not expect the hot warmth, the muffled pleasure that struck deep into her core. She did not expect the base of her spine to both ignite and tighten at the action. Was her spine coiling, it felt like it was. And Thra, it was damned good. Thra could have Tavra if it would only keep her here in the hung moment. 

The heat became more, in the air around them, between them, inside them. Was their a dry place on her body? Yes, Tavra’s mouth was dry as she panted over them, her wetness mixing with Thyfela’s as she rocked, as strikes of pleasure clenched inside her, getting strong and stronger, and – it almost hurt, but she wouldn’t dare stop. Her arms ached, and her thighs quivered and-and her thighs were getting strangly hot too, but not her skin. Tavra’s bones were on fire and she almost didn’t notice that he whole body was shaking and something was going to snap-she was going to fall- Tavra spread her wings further out to catch wind, then draped them over Onica and Thyfela as she pressed over them and-

Thra the girls body was so strong as she settled her free hand on Tavra ass and pressed her into her. “the babe will be seeded.” Tavra gasped, “I’ll be sure of it.”

Thyfela was moaning, her skin a defiant pink, sweaty blush all over, and little red hairs were sticking to her forehead, she kept her eyes on Tavra, half-lidded and looking more than tipsy, “I-I,” She mumbled, then swallowed as she arched a little and shut her eyes tight. “Oh, Thra- Oh, oh, please Delphini, I-I’m going to-“ She stopped speaking, stopped making noise as her whole body arched off the floor, rising to Tavra’s own, her head thrown back and mouth open wide in a breathless, voiceless scream. She was falling off the precipice, and as Tavra watched, she could see the stuttering step heartbeat racketing against the girl’s frozen chest. One. Two, then a third visible thump and-

Tavra could feel her core quivering against her. The song changed, a sudden trumpet sounded as that thing inside her snapped and her whole body, wound so tight, could only freeze over them both as Tavra bore down, the essences of her own body slipping away to take root in another as Thra demanded. 

Then, that divine breath escaped her chest, the strength lent to her gone, and Tavra lowered herself over Thyfela and Onica. Tavra turned her head and listened to Thyfela’s chest, although she had to focus passed her own raging pulse to hear the racing heartbeat of Thyfela. It would calm, but Tavra didn’t not want to relinquish her lover, not until the song quieted and she knew for sure that her essence, her childling, was there in Thyfela’s womb. 

And she had six more wives to attend to. None of the brothers had yet set, a testament verified by the bright light that entered through the rogue slit in the tent roof, but still, a long night was ahead of her. Did all the wives have to be pregnant tonight? 

Thra did not have to answer, but it did. Tavra grunted, “Alright, alright. Just, just let me catch my breath.” 

“Here.” Onica had twisted from them only to grab a glass and bring it back. In was a pretty crystal, but held only a sips worth of brown liquid. Tavra sniffed at it, a spirit, a strong one at that, with sharp spices that wetted her mouth. Onica brought it to Tavra’s lips and tipped it little by little. Tavra tentatively sipped, then drained it all. Even though the spirit bit the tip of her tongue, the after taste spread over her, kindling her heat from head to toe. “Better?”

Tavra smiled, “Much. Thank you, Lovely.” 

“Good, now go on,” She nodded back to the archway, “The other’s are waiting.”

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“Burn it.” Seladon ordered again. She heard a ruckus in the room below, and stomping feet racing up the stairs. Seladon only turned to see her sister and-and that conservator. “Conservator Rek’yr.” She snarled, and Ladella squalled happily from her arms, tucking close to Seladon’s chest and placing a small hand on the skin of her chest, just beneath her necklace. 

“Seladon, wait.” Brea slipped between the guards and raced over to her sister. Her brow was worried and lips set into a thin line, “Please, let me explain.” 

“Explain what?” Seladon lifted the sheet back up, “Explain your state? You are naked in this! Help me cover this up.” 

“Please, Seladon. I commissioned it. I wasn’t coerced.” Brea’s hands wrapped around Seladon’s elbow, “I had to convince Conservator Rek’yr to paint it.” The image was of Brea, laid out on soft sitting pillows, like the ones she had seen all over the library. She was next to a window, where someone could see! Her body was facing from, and although only her hips were covered by the sheet, her arms laid over to cover her breasts and she stared at the viewer with a coy smile on her lips. 

Seladon turned to the guards and the conservator, “Out. All of you Out!” She brought Ladella closer to her chest as the three outsiders backed out of the room, except for Niash’Na to whom her chain was attached, and down the stairs until Seladon was sure she had at least some privacy. Although they others would probably eaves drop from below. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“I-I wanted, I wanted it to be a gift.” Brea let go of her sister and dropped her gaze and her ears. 

“To who? Who were you going to give this painting to?”

Then, barely a whisper, “The Conservator. It’s tradition of his people to receive an intimate image of the loved one during courtship.”

Seladon felt the air leave her chest, “It’s only been four unum. Only four. And your how far into a courtship I didn’t know about?”

Brea shifted from foot to foot, “four unum, almost the end of it.” 

Seladon laughed, just laughed and crossed to the window where a little bench was. “Then what? You would mate him? Become the Conservators wife? You would stay here reading and learning all there was and will be?” Seladon set her gaze on her sister, “Never to go home again?”

Brea looked to her sister, her hands clasped together, “I want here to be my home now.” 

Seladon focused on taking a breath as her vision swirled, “You have to go home. I agreed to be mother to her,” She bounced Ladella up, “As long as you and Tavra returned home.” 

“Tavra can’t.”

“Why?” Seladon did not understand why both her younger sisters clung to this place and Seladon craved the pale Citadel, and freedom. “Why can’t she go home.” 

“Tavra’s been chosen by the priestess of the Western Empire’s Religious Sect to be their Delphini, a soother with a direct line to Thra and the Vliyaya of our world. The ancient texts in the Grand Library of Kashath suspect that she would be able to speak with the Crystal of Truth the way Mother Aughra did so long ago and cross or speak to others on the plain of dreams, where we go when we dreamfast.” Brea had moved closer as she spoke, “The entirety of this Empire would heave up and raze before it gave up their religious head. That’s what she is now.”

Seladon tried to take a breath, and looked down, focused on the baby, the real, living being that radiated heat. Ladella wrapped her hands over Seladon’s grabbed at her jewelry and leaned back against Seladon. She’d look up, to check Seladon’s face and-and Seladon never dreamfasted with her little childling. Her baby for the foreseeable future who seemed content with Seladon and her doll, which-where was that thing? But, but Seladon could not bear to be away from her childling for a long period of time, always aware of her. Sometimes she would hold her breath in the night to listen for Ladella’s soft breath, or get up to check on her, or close court for a little bit in the middle of the day to have Ladella brought to her, just to hold her. 

Seladon pressed her lips to her baby’s forehead again and looked up at Brea, “You will go home at the end of the Wet Season, when the ships can go out again.” She ordered.

“No, please Seladon, I want to stay here-“

“What about Mother!” Seladon shouted over her, and felt Ladella jerk against her at the sound, shrinking into her. Seladon patted her back and hummed. “What about her. Alone and without any of her children. She doesn’t know how we are treated, or that you need to carry everything you learned back and help to over see the treaties between the empires.” Seladon looked at Brea, whose face at twisted ore and her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, filling up and soon to spill over. Seladon sighed, like wind from her sails. “We will speak about this after the Festival. It’s supposed to last three days, and during that time, we need to cater to the ruling families of the tribes. Please just be on your best behavior.” Seladon rocked herself to her feet, between corset and baby and chain she found herself more and more weighed down.

“Acting All-Maudra,” Niash’Na whispered from across the room, “The Lord Regent is looking for you.” 

Seladon followed her guard out, “I won’t have anyone arrested, but please Brea, please consider this. I’ll see you tonight.” She didn’t wait for her sister’s response, but- but she didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know what o do. What she wanted came into conflict with everyone else, but Brea was sad at the Citadel where she was supposed to be, and more that euphoric here, where she should not. 

Thra, she’ll handle this tonight.


	8. Festival (3/3)

Naia usually jumped to celebrate. To get away from the palace, her brother, her duty. Free. She would have weaved in and out of vendor tents, down beers. Before the All-Maudra’s death, Gurjin and her would have drinking games and competitions all night. Last trine’s festival was canceled in the aftermath of the loss of their All-Maudra, but this trine, everything was bursting at the seams. All of the pent up tension of the entire empire. The moment her brother requested the Eastern Imperial heir, mother already started planning another festival. “The Empire’s Moral is waning. We need something to bring us together.” She had affirmed, and was only supported in the unum after the Princesses arrival by the other Maudras. And Naia grinned as she saw ferocious festus and fireworks and dancing and plays and, Thra, so much. 

And Amri. 

My. Goodness. 

She convinced Gurjin that he should be relinquished of his chains and remanded to her custody alone as she stated her intention to mate him. And he was over the sisters when she told him that they would go to the festival and enjoy it without any chains. He asked for his confiscated items and dug into a returned bag to pull out…goggles? 

A set of goggles with shaded glass for eyes, the type that flying shipmen, was settled on his nose as he waded into the crowd ahead of her and took in their bright surroundings. He even stopped to marvel at the lovely fireworks. Then, then he got into one of the open festus dance squares that gridded the festival space. He had thrown himself head long into the wild dances of the Sifan, and was swept up by several dousan for closely held twirling movements, passing him back and forth between several of them before she cut in. And she held him closer, dug her fingers into his nurloc jacket and pulled him in as she went. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close. Naia’s hands crested over his shoulders as she felt his lips brushed against her right ear, “You are looking so very lovely, My Lady Knight.” 

She hummed. She was in her best military dress, but she declined any crown. She sighed and snuggled into his arms as he fell into rocking from side to side with her. One of his hands rose and rounded, sliding up her back to her wings, “Lady Knight Naia, have they found the Skeksis?” the Skeksis that this lowly grottan had led to their capital, “No, no.” She mumbled but pressed closer, “You smell of mint.” 

“It’s a Grottan thing.” 

Naia laughed at him, and he stepped away to spin her around. As he did so, she lifted her eyes, to the tall rooftops of the square’s tall buildings and- 

Whatever was that? A large shadow zipped across. Naia swore. If it was the drunken newly graduated soldiers in a misappropriated flying ship, she would- Breath, breath. She should only take one finger from each of them. Naia was pulled back to Amri, but eyed at the roofs, she did not see another shadow or even any more movement high above. She opted to snuggle closer, her eyes searching all about until she looked to the stage to find both mother and father watching her and Amri, pointing and whispering to each other. 

Her eyes widened and she screwed the shut as she buried her face into Amri shoulder. “Amri, don’t let me go for a while.” 

“Never in a million trine.” Naia smiled against the soft cloth of his shoulder. “Never.” He pushed his nose against her ear again, “You have no idea how hard it is not to think of you.” She squeezed him hard. She would be consulting Conservator Rek’yr soon to find every detail of the Grottan system of courtship.

“Lady Naia,” one of Mother’s guards called to her, “the ceremony is about to begin.” He took her spot next to Amri. Although he was released from bondage, he was still an outsider that needed watching, as Gurjin so kindly stated. Naia was slow to pull away from Amri, letting him keep their fingers woven together for so long as she moved, then finally letting go. 

Ugh, it was terrible. Ugh, who was she!? 

Naia shook her head and strode through the crowd to take her position on stage with the other royal families. She didn’t bother with the stairs, and leaped onto the stage with a flap from her wings, she looked over her shoulder to eye Amri, his ears were forward, and she wondered if his googled eyes were on her? Her belly twisted as she realized that, for Thra’s sake, his eyes should only be on her. She would speak with her mother tonight about mating. Naia settled next to her mother as Maudra-heir and almost immediately mother leaned close, but did not turn her head to look at her daughter. 

“And just who is that Grottan?” Mother hummed and smiled as the last carriage, Gurjin’s and Ladella’s and Seladon’s, rolled slowly through the parting crowd, waving at all, as they made their way to the stage. 

“My beau. You and Father with formally meet him this eve.” 

Mother merely hummed and gave a short nod and Naia turned her attention to the incoming Royals. Naia grinned at her brother, he looked nervous, but ready. It was a strange expression on his face that surprised Naia, but then again, so did Gurjin. For the moment his wife passed, he pulled himself together, to control the empire, although many initially hated the idea of a male Regent. However, Gurjin acted with grace, continuing the war with careful suggestions from his cabinet, learning the laws and holding court, and keeping his daughter near, checking on her often if she wasn’t directly in his arms. 

However, he had become obsessed with getting Ladella a proper tutor for her position. None of the Maudra’s or Maudra-daugthers could be an imperial tutor. Naia was taught to maintain her clan, keep it at peace with the other clans and the Empire, but ultimately to further her own. The All-Maudra must act altruistically to maintain peace, justice, and fairness in balance amongst the clans, something that would best be attained through the direct tutelage of another All-Maudra. 

The poor little Ladella would have had a very hard upbringing. 

Until, Gurjin begged Naia to lead a particular mission: to lead a team on a flying ship across the sea to the shores of the Crystal castle and the Eastern Empire. To fall into the ocean and climb up the edge of an eastern rudimentary boat to snatch up three Vapran girls. To help steal the All-Maudra heir of the Eastern Empire for Ladella. And it worked rather perfectly. Naia grinned, she was glad they had stolen the heir’s sisters. With them lives as leverage, Seladon fell into the role of Ladella’s mother gracefully. Would she be a good tutor as well? And Ladella was enamored. She was constantly in Seladon’s arms, and never made a move to crawl away from her.

Seladon was helped up the stairs to the stage and floated along on Gurjin’s arm. Naia hated the dresses and did not envy Seladon ever, but she did look perfect as Acting All-Maudra. Ladella had been passed to Gurjin as They stepped into the center and waved at masses around them. No one was expecting the roar in response and Mother flinched at the sound. Ladella squirmed and squealed, ah, poor baby. But Seladon carefully reached across, pressed a pointed finger into the center of Ladella’s hand, closed her eyes, and the baby quieted as the cheers were settled by Gurjin.

Gurjin took a breath. They still had the speech, the tying of the ribbons that would then be tied to the top of a heavily decorated pole nearby and a circle dance to do. Amri hopped up and down waved at Naia with that big grin on his face. 

.  
.  
.

The fire crackled rather loud in the sitting room, the Royal families sitting and softly conversing in the warm plush room. Seladon sat with Gurjin’s family in the center as the Maudra’s continued their conversation of land usage on the continent, and how several of the wealthier upperclass have been trying to land grab. Maudra Laesid swirled her glass of dark wine, sipping at it, she had ensured that all in the room had a drink of some sort, sweet juices for the younger children, rich wines and full bodied brandies for the adults. Laesid sipped her wine before she pondered to the other two Maudras on how they could to maintain a semblance of opportunity for all gelfling to keep the masses happy, without upsetting the upperclass and losing their support. Although Seladon wouldn’t dare chime in, her ears swiveled and hung on each word of the conversation between the three. 

However, her mind sweltered through a fog. Gurjin’s rut had come back full force and the heavy scent he exuded had her skin crawling and-and-a spot between her legs becoming wet. She didn’t look at the Lord Regent, kept her focus on the conversation at hand rather than her sweltering body or how her heart throbbed beneath the heavy heat of her reddening chest. She wanted to stretch too, a mating dance thing, but every muscle in her body felt swollen and tight and she wanted to open her wings wide, arch her back around, stretch her arms high above her head-oh, focus, Seladon, focus!

She had a momentarily breathless thought, well, a mind’s image rather, of just her and Gurjin alone in a bedroom, him dragging her closer by her chain. Would he spank her like before. Would, would he do that thing to her like before. Would he rip this stupid, fucking corset off her and – Seladon took a slow measured breath as she cut her eyes to the Drenchen man next to her. She wanted another night, but this time, after he spanked her, she wanted him to stay so she could do things to him. He wouldn’t speak to her about it, but he sat as close to her as he could, laying some of her skirts of his legs to press his thigh as close to her own. Tonight, Seladon decided, she was going to have her way with Gurjin, she would bed him. 

Seladon, by immense strength of sheer will, returned her concentration to the conversation at hand. Maudra Seethi seemed calm and collected, but sharp on her thoughts and words, capable of delivering crushing blows or delicate touches of thought. However, she was a careful contrast to Maudra Laesid, who wisely, but bluntly addressed the situations at hand. It was Ethri, the youngest of the Maudra’s, newly coronated and just about as old as Seladon herself, that sat silent, taking in all the information given and gauging the reactions around them with her single eye. Her gem eye matched the gems of the tiara on her head, the dark yellow gold contrasting with her hair. 

However, Ethri glanced across to Ladella who played in Seladon’s arms, or- oh Thra, did everyone else in the room smell Gurjin’s rut, and her answering Heat? Seladon raised a brow at Ethri, who reddened and turned to Seethi. Damn. Seladon looked down at her baby, climbing between Gurjin and herself, keeping a soldieress doll knotted in one of her fat little fists, pulling herself up to stand on Seladon’s lap. She would smile and give sloppy kisses to both Seladon and Gurjin, before she absconded to the floor where she proceeded to harass Brea. 

Brea rested her head back against Seladon’s knee. The younglings of the Maudras sat on lovely pillows on the floor at their parent’s feet, save for childless Ethri, but Brea and Ladella sat at Seladon’s feet for now. Seladon reached out and gently petted her hair. Brea seemed to accept this and sighed as Seladon gently razed her nails into her hair. 

“And what do you think about this, Seladon?” Maudra Laesid called to her, shifted gently. 

“The land situation? I would allow the upperclass to obtain the land and act as city states loyal to the clan geographically nearest them with a few severe conditions,” Maudra Laesid waved her hand in circular motions to Seladon until she elaborated, “Conditions such as instituting democratically elected council members who will set the rent and rules of the territories. These rules and legislations should adhere to the nearest clans constitutions and rulings. If that were the case, the nearest clans would also have to oversee these territories as their own colonies, keep an eye on them, but don’t control them.” 

The Maudras were silent, Seethi humming and Laesid leaning back into the couch back as she looked at the frescoed ceiling. Was she thinking of Seladon’s words. Ah, was her solution silly. Impossible? Maybe. 

“The locations in question are not explored,” Brea piped up, “You could reward the upperclass if they send out explorative teams and scientists and cartographers for collecting more information for the great library and Conservatory.” Seladon patted her sisters head. 

“And would a Vapran be interested in going on one such expedition?” Seladon asked, keeping her voice sweet. 

“I think it would be a lovely way to spend my time instead of locked up in the Citadel.” 

The Maudras shared a look and- Thra, she needed to nip this conversation in the butt. “But our mother would be happy to have you home.” 

Maudra Laesid thunked her silver headed cane as she grinned at the two youngest of her children, Pemma and Eliona, “Aye, a mother does loves her childlings.” She leaned forwards a bit, the blackish-green pearls on her crown and hanging in droplets from her ears, swung forward a little as she leaned forward, “Go find you sister, and her boy too.” 

The two girls rose, in empire waisted dresses like Brea, but of vibrant blues and greens, edged in demur golds with tiny little pearl tiaras on their heads. They both still had their baby fat around their faces, cute and rosy cheeked with rich hair that reminded her of Gurjin’s locks. The girls carefully stepped around Brea, and Pemma stopped in front of the younger Vapran, “Can I braid your hair when I come back?” 

Brea rose to the question, and although Seladon could not see her face, she’d bet a lot of coin that her sister showed her surprise to the request. “Oh, ah, yes, if you would like Princess Pemma.” Seladon smiled, Brea didn’t play with many girls her age, few were of her station and thus Mother did not let her play with commoners. Seladon watched the girls go, and turned back to Brea, Ladella cooing in her arms before grabbing her cheek with pudgy hands and giving it a squeeze.   
Seladon rested back, and brought her wine glass to her lips and took a silent pull, watching over the rim of her glass as Seethi’s daughters, two fine and mature girls, Raszhimma and Lashur with colorful wings and piercing on the delicate membrane there too. One was feminine with soft edges and smooth skin, but the other was strong, like Tavra, her hands scarred and strong from earnest work. And Seethi’s son, only a hand full of Trine old, settled between them. Gurjin said he might be Ladella’s future husband, if and only if, Ethri did not marry and have descendants to consider, soon. The doors to the sitting room opened, but Seladon did not need to look to find the three Drenchen girls coming in. 

“What is this?” 

Gurjin’s growl surprised her. Seladon turned to him, set her hand on his knee as he leaned forward and eyed Naia and a Grottan. Seladon squeezed her hand as she eyed the Grottan male. She had seen hi in chains before, but now he was dressed much nicer, in the style of the Western Empire, and a large set of goggles over his eyes. He still looked so calm, even as Naia pulled him closer to her. 

“Enough, Gurjin.” Naia sniffed, “I only need Mother and Father’s approval.” 

Maudra Laesid, “So this is the boy you were making eyes at,” Her tone was utterly delighted, “Oh, he is so pretty!”

Seladon felt every muscle in his body only tighten further. Think fast. She started to rock up, “Pemma, why don’t you take my seat, it will make braiding Brea’s hair easier.” She stood, and folded her hands at her waist as she look to Brea, “Can I leave Ladella here?” Her youngest sister nodded, Ladella tapping her soldieress around, her eyes so focused on the toy. 

Seladon made her way out of the room, but brushed Gurjin’s chest with the tip of her closest wing. Was she inviting him away with her? Yes, yes she was. Seladon heard him followed her, but still, he barked out, “Naia if the Grotton puts one toe out of line, then he better start praying to all of Thra.” 

Once they were out of the room, Gurjin took the lead, He grabbed Seladon’s hand and walked her to his chambers. His chambers. Her breathing became heavier, hell, she just was swallowing the hot and spicy scent of the Lord Regent. 

Seladon let him take her down the halls to his room, marveling at the lovely statues as he ripped own doors, but closed them as soon as she was inside. He stayed behind and made sure the heavy bolts fell into place with a satisfactory click. She finally entered his bed chambers, The high ceiling unfolded into a fresco of swimming Drenchen and cornered in darker waters. The golds highlighted the shimmering waters. It was here that he grabbed her around her waist. Seladon gasped as she was twirled, then pulled against his chest. His the buttoned regalia of his beautiful military dress pressed against her chest. Seladon wrapped her arms around his waist as he leaned down to her, his lips bumped hers first, then curled around her lower lip, sucking and parting. She didn’t care if her tiara fell off her head, she just leaned into him. For Thra’s sake, he tasted fresh, of clean water, but warm like exotic spriton tea. Seladon raised her a hand from his back to the side of his neck, running her finger tips over his gills. They shivered and he moaned against her lips, before he pressed down harder until she parted her own lips. His tongue swiped between them, and swirled around her own. 

Seladon stretched her wings, needing to extend her body. He let go of her and brought his own hand over her breast. She didn’t realized how fast or hard her own was racing. She pulled her lips from him as her own hand rested over his. An extra few thuds of her heart went by before he twirled her around and settled her on the end of the bed. He fell to one knee and grabbed at the bottom of her skirts, tossing them up and pushing her legs apart. 

“Lay back, I have to push those skir-“

The doors to his bed chamber flew open, and a sifan soldier Seladon had never seen before entered in full guard dress. “Lord Regent!’” Seladon had to give it to him, not a cringe, not a stutter, not a wink of surprise. Full hardcore focus. “A skeksis has been spotted in the castle.” 

Gurjin jumped up and started running to the door. Seladon screamed when she was dragged to the floor by her chain, still anchored to Gurjin’s belt, but he ripped it off so fast, he didn’t even stop running to leave. 

He would be heading back to- 

“My baby!” Seladon screeched as she rolled herself up and, stupid damn corset made everything hard. She would be outlawing corsets tomorrow. For now, she needed to get to her childling. 

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“So, how will he be useful to the Drenchen Clan?” Mother asked openly, even as Maudra Ethri cringed. Gurjin was her biggest worry, er, at first. However, the moment that Amri stepped into the dim sitting room, he pulled his goggles off and smiled big. Father loved him. 

Her large Drenchen father rose and opened his arms to crush Amri against him as he said. “Ah, finally, I worried none would catch little Naia’s eye.” He boomed and laughed, such a contagious thing. Amri was laughing boyishly, his pale cheeks turning pink as he was returned to her side, and she opened her arms to stabilize him. He rested against her, his fingers brushed along on of her wings before he was pulled away again, this time mother. 

“Let me see.” She took his hands and looked at them, then, “Take off your shoes, I want to be sure that you have all your toes.”

“He has them all!” Naia felt heat run up her neck and face and her spine felt flimsy as her stomach flipped. Could she be more mortified. No. No she fricken could not.

Mother just grabbed his face and pulled his lower lip down. 

“Mother!” Naia could not dig a deep enough hole in all of Thra to vindicate her embarrassment. Amri just cut an eye to her, but winked. He winked with his dark large eyes and-

“Ahh,” Mother grinned as she let him go, “All his teeth, straight and white. Perfect.” 

Naia buried her face in her hands as Amri was finally returned to her. Naia reached out and firly wove her fingers between his, no one else was going to examine him. “So,” Mother pipped up, even as she took her seat again, “will he support you well when you become Maudra?” 

Amri froze, his fingers tightening in her hand. “Maudra. Why would Lady Knight Naia be Maudra.” Oh. Oh, no. She never directly told him. And-shit, everyone called her Lady Naia as sibling to the Lrod Regent, rather than princess of the Swamp of Sog and- 

“Amri, I am Maudra Laesid’s oldest daughter.” She reached out with her free hand and cupped his cheek. “It’s who I need to be.” She turned his head to her, his big eyes so very, very wide. His mouth drawn down and lips pressed together. Was he mad? “Amri, is that okay?”

“Will you still adhere to my people’s mating rituatl?” 

“Yes, of course. We are going to visit the swamp before I ask you. And you can always so no if you don’t want to.” 

“Will I be a prince?” His voice was a wisp, but there was a touch there, just a small whisper of imphishness. He was about to say something that would ease her, already her muscles began to relax and-

“He would be a traitor.” The voice was deep and vibrated in her chest. Naia let go of Amri as she turned, her hands going for her sword and gun as she turned to the doors. Standing there, in the doorway, was something she had never seen, but knew. She knew it from stories, from drawn depictions of wars, from the archives the Imperial spies had been able to gather. A massive and powerful creature

Swords drawn and held in four hands. The creature’s fiery gaze pierced from behind the skull mask. A Skeksis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gasp. next chapter will be the face off between SkekMal and the Western Imperials. 
> 
> Let me know what you think


	9. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, 
> 
> I think there will only be about five more chapters to this story, so stay tuned, although I may not post again until mid July. I am going to try and do CampNanowrimo and will be taking time to get that in order. 
> 
> Let me know How you are liking the story so far!

Seladon’s chain swung free of any anchor as the Acting All-Maudra flew down the halls, but she would not reach them in tie. She would never reach them in time. Seladon threw herself into an alcove, a window seat and pressed her forehead against the marble pillar here. She pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes closed.

The first unamoth, Seladon had ever seen hatched in her mother’s hands, a secret between herself and her mother. In the very early hours of the morn, Seladon crawled into mother’s bed with a glowing chrysalis. Mother did no sit up, instead only pulled Seladon closer, to her swelling stomach. At the time, Seladon did not yet know it, but Tavra was on her way to them. And there, Mother taught her some of the song she sang now, to birth the Unamoth, a light in the darkness, the symbol of enlightenment to all the Gelfling clans of the Eastern Empire. 

Now, she needed to sing the song again, the longer part that mother did never knew, but was whispered to her. She had done this only once before. Only a handful of trine after Brea was born. And it scared her. Would she come back to her body again? She began to whisper into her fingers, the things that Thra sang, a song she did not know and could barely pronounce. Her spirit slaked of her skin and took to the creature weeping from her lips and eyes and fingertips. A growing and growling moth. 

The unamoth took flight, took her soul to kindle it as it flew faster than she had ever flown with her crippled wings, right to her childling and sister and – and Gurjin. Her soul saw everything, the halls, the amassing guards. Naia and Laesid as well as the personal guards, were already in vicious combat. Naia’s sword deflected to of SkekMal’s blades, not an easy feat as she was knocked back, unbalanced at the weight and power of the Lord. Gurjin had attacked the back to the lord, only to have to contend with SkekMal’s pivoting, dancing with an airy swiftness unbefitting his mass, literally twirling around the room with flying blades as he fought from all sides. 

But SkekMal was reliant on his senses. And she could do something about that. Her spirit race forward, and wrapped around SkekMal’s mask, his head. And she pushed against it. She envisioned crushing the mask, but even as she did, her own sight, and the light provided by her spirit, dimmed. It was no snuffing out, but turning, she felt slimy. Choking on the blackness that her spirit was becoming as it pressed in on the head of this monster. Seladon made a terrible choice, a sinfully one that Thra would reject her spirit over, for using this method to kill any creature. She wiggled into the skull, the bone, then the veins of the Beast and began to heat the skull with her light. The way a Vapran Vliyaya kills is so wrong it would stain her soul forever more. She would cook the Skeksis’s brain and melt it right out of its head. 

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Mother had taken her gun and fired. The bullet missed and the wall exploded behind the creature. Naia’s mouth hung open as she parried away two blades as she stepped back next to Amri, who got a spear from somewhere, craftly bugger. Lashur was flanked by her guards. All of them had raised pistols as well, but, Oh Thra, please don’t fire them. She was far too close, and Gurjin was on the other side of the Skeksis, surely he would get hit too. Naia heard screaming and stepped back enough to look over her shoulder at Ladella and Brea. Brea was in a corner with Raszhimma and her brother, Pemma and Eliona and Ethri and her guards. Ethri was standing in front of them, her own gun trained on the Skeksis with her teeth bared dangerously. 

“Fire!” Enthri bellowed even as mother cried out. Gurjin leapt back, away from the flying swords of the Skeksis, as several bullets punched into the heavy armors he wore. Although he had been unbalanced by the attack, the Skeksis did not slow down and certainly not dissuaded. 

She needed a miracle from Thra itself. 

Then a bright thing, a sun all its own flew into the room and knocked around the ceiling, tossing around the chandelier before it fell upon the Skeksis’s head and wrapped around it. The thing became white and hotter before it dampened and pressed against the Skeksis head as it darkened. The Skeksis dropped one of its swords and swiped at the light but the other three arms still flailed and fought and-

Ethri guided her group arounddd the room as the Skeksis was drawn further into the room and now blinded. The Sifan Maudra stayed at the door as she pushed her group out, Brea and Ladella included, and allowing for more soldiers to enter. 

Naia rushed forward, her eyes narrowed on the creatures neck as it threw it’s head side to side. As Naia entered the fray of flying blades, she ducked before she launched herself up. With her blade reaching out, she could already taste blood. Unfortunately, that blood was her own. She was thrown to the side, smashed into a wall to collapse on the floor. Did her blade even made contact? She felt the heat of a form over her, and hand cupping her face. She cracked an eye open to find Amri, goggle tossed aside as his big, shiny eyes roved all over her, his pale face twisted into a look of utter horror. 

“’m okay.” She managed, but the horrible pain at her back spoke other wise. A broken wing probably, whatever else she was unsure. “Help me up.” He put down his spear, which she wanted to scream over, but pulled her against him as they rose together, then, then he walked towards the door, around the edges of the room in the same fashion as the civilians. “No, Amri,” She looked to her Grottan with darkening eyes, “My sword, my gun. Give me a weapon.” He shook his head, and held her tighter, but she could not fly away even if she tried. 

“I have got you, mine light.” He merely stated, but his face was still stricken and the muscles in his jaw and neck flexed and clenched. She wanted to say something more, but-but she forgo-Oh thra, A lot more of her body was hurting now, and even as she closed her eyes – only to rest them – she heard Amri’s panicked, “Help her.” As they left the room, “she’s been stabbed.” 

But that noise was drowned out by Gurjin ordered volleys of gunfire behind her.   
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Tavra slipped around the corner. Thra’s song was singing and in perfect order. All was where it was supposed to be, save for this part. This part would require her to hurt her sister terrible. All the soldiers were amassing at the sitting room in the heart of the palace, to kill the intruding Skeksis, and they would succeed. That song has already been sung and is over now, but there was another matter at hand. And a great deal of violence to come in the next three unum. The wet season this trine will be stained with blood. Before she left Onica’s side, the far dreamer whispered of a moment, not too far into the future, this trine will be known as the Blood Trine. 

And Trava nearly cried at it. Her new position meant to be the holy caretaker of Thra, and to see so many of its beloved creatures slaughter, twisted, and manipulated into further monsters… she would have to see it all through the storms to come. Well, herself and Seladon. 

Tavra walked as quietly as she could in boots, right up behind Seladon, tucked away in an alcove and leaning against, no, clutching the marble pillar in front of her. The side of her face was pressed against the cold stone, but she was otherwise perfectly still, not even a single breath was taken in, and yet, she had already killed something in the most unspeakable way, even Tavra could not absolve her of that wrong. It would be something she’d bare forever more. 

Tavra stepped behind her sister’s body, and wrapped her arms around her waist, and took her tense weight. Brea would be running this way any moment, holding something other than the precious little All-Maudra, but their sister’s spirit. 

She would need to get to the Imperial Spy network next, even as the littlest Vapran fluttered and tripped and sprinted around the corner with the dimming soul of there sister. Still, so much hurt to wrought on her family, by Tavra’s hand. She tucked her ears. If only it wasn’t all so necessary.   
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The room was awfully bright. Why a white room? Something scuffed to her right and Seladon followed the noise to find several sets of eyes peeking over the edge of her bed at her. All childlings of all three races. Her throat was so dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, but she managed a smile. Their ears tucked and two of them dropped below her sight. “Oh,” She cracked out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Still, one of the Dousan children rose taller and Seladon’s eyes widened. Bhem’Der, one of Brea’s little children from the Conservatory. 

“Would you like some water?” his voice was so loud that she closed her eyes against the striking pain. 

“Yes please, but please keep your voice down, my ears are very sensitive.” She opened her eyes again to see him pad away from her bed to a short table across from her. Seladon slowly, with several heavy breaths, pushed herself up. She had not been in this room before, the walls lacking totally in color and few very bland pieces of furniture. Even the covers were white and boring. Gone was any of the rich decorations of the Imperial palace and- was any of it real? 

She pushed herself up, only snagged when she realized that one of the children had swiped some of her hair over the edge of the bed to braid it. She pulled herself free until she was sitting up, and to the children’s credit, they helped pushed all the pillows on the bed behind her, allowing her to recline into them and watch Bhem lift the large water jug from the table and set it on the floor in front of him. He repeated the process with a clay goblet. Then, she watched, mesmerized and unwilling to stop him, as he carefully poured clear water into the goblet. Then over the floor as the goblet overflowed. He set the jug aside then carefully lifted the goblet up. 

She held her breath, as did each and every one of the other children as Bhem’Der walked the goblet, brimming with water and spilling over the edges due to the slightest jostle. With his tongue stuck out at the corner of his lip and his eyes carefully focused, he delivered a too full goblet of water to her. 

Seladon brought it to her lips and slurped loudly. Oh thank Thra. The water cooled her over heated body and soothed her parched throat. “Thank you.” She whispered, then drank the rest of the cup. Her body hurt all over, but she was no longer tired. She looked around the room and realized, there was not a stitch of additional clothing available save for the thin shift barely keeping her warm. “Will one of you please go and get a guard?” One of the little sifan girls with very bouncy hair scuttled off to the door, threw her weight into the wood and fluttered her wings as she pushed it and left it open. 

Seladon waited, the little children moving about, resuming braiding her hair, Bhem’Der sat on the corner of her head and read, and two little boys had soldier dolls that were bid battle when the little girl came back. “I can’t find them.” She stated. 

“Well, what do you mean?”

She shrugged, “I looked, but I couldn’t find any soldiers. Or servants.” She skipped back to Seladon’s bed, her pale yellow skirts billowing around her legs. And ache in Seladon’s chest started, one she would like to say from desperate longing, and another sharper stab from swelling. She needed to feed Ladella and let off some of this milk.

“Did you look for my sister, Brea?” 

The little girl’s mouth became an oh of surprise as her eyes widened and she turned right around, “I know where she is!” She ran out of the room before Seladon could get even another word in. 

“Okay, then.” She would have to do this. “I need to get going, how about you all come with me.” The little ones stood up or got of the bed, obediently filing towards the door. Seladon pushed her covers away and tossed her legs over the edge of the bed and- and then had to catch her breath. “In just a moment.” She took a great big breath and nearly leapt out of bed, hoping her body would be strong enough to-

She hobbled her first few steps and used her wings outstretched to balance, but was able to stand straight after a moment and shuffled towards the door. The moment she entered the hallway, her mouth dropped open. It was the North Wing of the Palace. She knew the way back. Much like the conservatory, the children held her thin shift skirts as they went with. 

And it was true, the halls were empty as death. Where were the guards? Where were the servants and courtiers? Where were her sisters? 

She made it very nearly to Gurjin’s chambers when Brea came around the corner, flying and frantic and arms full of Sifan childling as she touched down in front of Seladon. After Brea set the girl down, she pulled Seladon into a hug. Oh, sister.” She sobbed and Seladon sighed and molded herself against her sister, who surprisingly supported her weight with ease. Brea shook and Seladon tried to squeeze her, but found her muscles too weak. She settled for patting her back. When she finally let Seladon go did she try to wipe her tears away, “Don’t ever do that again.” She croaked out.

“Oh, Little one.” Seladon sighed. “Never. I promise.” Then blushed, her shift front was wet, “I need to feed the baby.” Seladon grabbed large sections of her hair and pulled it over her shoulders to cover her breasts. Brea nodded, but took her hand and lead her into Gurjin’s chambers which, unlike everywhere else, had nearly a score of soldiers alert in The Lord Regent’s ante-chamber. They bowed deeply to her, but Seladon blushed as she realized she didn’t recognize a single soldier, but she preformed a shaky curtsy, to exhausted to care that she wore only a thing gown, and moved passed them to the bed chamber.

She only stopped when Brea announced that she would take the children back, but Seladon merely waved as she pushed forward, to her baby. She spied a tall gilded cradle near the bed. She snuck into the room on quiet feet and sat on the corner of the bed as she pushed her hair over her shoulder and pulled apart the bosom of her gown. The wet material stuck as much as possible to her body and forced a shiver through her spine. She will have to change after this. 

Leaning over the cradle, she grinned down at her baby. Ladella was already away, quietly laying in her bed as she played with her soldieress toy. It took her just an extra moment before she noticed Seladon, and when she did, she squealed and threw her toy aside. Her hands were still so little as she grabbed at the air towards Seladon. 

Seladon lifted her into her arms and shuffled back to the edge of the bed where she rested and pulled Ladella close. She smelled of Seaweed today. Seladon brushed her lips against the tight curls of Ladella’s head, breathing her in as she settled her on her chest and lap. Ladella’s little wings flopped around as she wiggled herself around and all too soon, Seladon was reclined back on Gurjin’s lush bed with her little one feeding off her. All seemed as it should. She closed her eyes, but ran her fingers over Ladella’s back. Her childling was safe and sound. And playing with the ends of her long hair. To see Ldella’s little green fist around her pale hair. 

Seladon grinned and sighed, and closed her eyes, because, Thra, she was tired. She hummed and rocked Ladella, turned her over to feed her from her other breast. Then, all to soon, Ladella rolled away from her, no longer hungry. Seladon shifted her get again, the little acrobat nearly plummeted away from Seladon with open and useless wings three times, before Seladon could hold her against her chest and pat a burp out of her. The ache in her breasts was gone with her milk, and the heavy weight of her childling’s soul anchored her again, in a way she hadn’t felt anchored for a long time.

Seladon finally relinquished her to splay her baby on her back at the center of the bed. Seladon immediately rolled to her feet, reaching into Ladella’s cradle for toys when the heavy doors cracked and squealed open. With her arms crossing over her chest, Seladon turned and stared at the Lord Regent, frozen in the frame there. 

“Gurjin.” She was not in the health for her heart to flutter the way it did. She could barely let out her trembling breath as she settled on the edge of the bed again. Seladon hunched over and hung her head as she took deep breathes, very suddenly light headed. Large hands cupped over her shoulders, rolled them back, then turned her. One of his fingers hooked beneath her chin and tilted it up and-

“I thought you were lost to me.” He whispered, and just those words gave her strength. She pushed herself up and turned into his chest. He was so warm. “I thought I lost you.” He whimpered this time. Her hands found his chest, then rose up, crested his shoulders, then wrapped around his neck as she pulled herself to him as much as she could, his own sinewy arms banded around her, held her tighter and closer to a point of near breathlessness. 

“You smell so good.” She mumbled and drew her nose over the hollow of his collar bone, dipping against sweat drops there, swollen with his spices, but subdued. She pressed an open mouthed kiss there, and took a taste. Beneath the turmeric warmth, was the tartness of something else- fear. “I’m okay.” She kissed him again then returned her nose to his skin. “So good.” She started towards a set of his gills as his large hands laid flat on her lower back. He pressed her against him, leaned over her, pressing her back to the mattress. He mouth found hers. His lips were soft and she easily caught his lower lip and sucked on it before he turned the tables, pulled back. When he kissed her again, he deepened the kiss, his tongue prodding her own lips and she parted for him. His tongue found hers and -

Oh, Thra, yes. 

He pulled back again – how dare he!- and kissed her cheeks several times. “Rest, Seladon.” He hummed, but followed her onto the bed until he laid against her side, or rather, had her pressed tighter against his side. She felt sharp little heels press into her wings. Oh, Ladella. Seladon raised a wing as she looked over her shoulder at Ladella, legs, arms and wings spread out like a little star fish. She stared at Seladon only for a moment before going back to kicking, using Seladon’s body to push off to the other side of the mattress. Escaping the two larger gelfling in a slow, wobbly crawl. Gurjin rolled over Seladon and wrapped his hand around her little ankle. 

Ladella gave a squeal as she was dragged back on her stomach, then Gurjin extracted himself from Seladon. She laid on the on the bed and watched Gurjin lift their daughter up, up into the air and bring her down slowly, her little wings flapped at the motions. Seladon marveled at how small Ladella was compared to her Drenchen father. “Gurjin, what happened?”

His ears flickered, then folded down, “for all I must know as the Regent for my daughter’s empire, I have no idea. Tavra said you used vapran vliyaya, but, but there was more.” He walked around his bed and set Ladella back in the middle. He sat on the bed keeping his eyes on his daughter, and away from Seladon. “Tavra said you need to rest and heal. And Mother’s own healing Vliyaya struggled to stitch your soul back into your body.” 

“And the Lord?”

Gurjin did look at her and cocked his head. “What Lord?”

Oh, oh that’s right. “The Skeksis?”

“Ah, dead. Your attack on the creature and our guns brought it down.” He rested back, then, “My spymaster also brought me word of another issue. Seladon,” he reached over the blankets and rich comforter to hold her hand. He gave a little squeeze. “Somehow, the Skeksis filth, Thra, the entire Eastern Empire, found out about your participation in defeating SkekMal.” 

Seladon took a breath and held it. What would mother think about her murdering a Lord? “What happened?” 

“The Eastern All-Maudra, and the Skeksis, have ordered that you are disowned as heir to the Vapran throne. You are no princess any longer.”

Seladon stared at Ladella, the little thing sinking to sleep as the news sunk into – No! - Oh Thra, Her sight became blotched in black and she shivered little sucks of air in. She should get up, and, and, and- She was going to vomit. No. How- How did any of this happen? 

“I had-“ was she talking loud enough for Gurjin to hear? “I had one job. To ascend the throne.” She shook her head, but his hand squeezed tighter. 

“There is more. More worrisome.” 

“What could be worse?”

“The treatise I had issued, theh stagnation of the war during the time that you and your sisters would be in my possession was not honored nor recognized by your peoples government.” 

What? There was more to this, but, why couldn’t she see the whole picture. “How do you know?”

“My spymaster has also sent me reports on amassing war ships and-and terrible beasts created by the demonic Skeksis. My spymaster calls them Garthim and one other thing. Well, two. Yes, now two.” Grujin did let go of her, he rose from his bed then tip toed to the next chamber, where he had dressed on the festival day, he left the door open and was gone for the span of a minute before he returned with a fisted hand. He returned to his spot, took her hand, and slipped something onto her finger. “It’s merely an offer, you will always be taken care of, not matter your answer. But it would make me terrible happy.” He caressed her hand as she stared at the silver ring. A single creamy pearl sat at the center and was encircled by dazzling gems. In fact, the design matched that of her Tiara. “When I had it commissioned, I also commissioned your crown and jewels.” 

“Gurjin, I-,” Seladon’s heart raced and heat raced up her neck to her hair line, “This is all happening so fast.” She should say yes. She should to stabilize her position in this court, to make a future for herself and be taken care of. She should-but, but what if it was just their ruts and heats speaking? And-was she still the Acting All-Maudra? What would she become by marrying Gurjin? 

“Then think on it, for however long you must.” He brought her hand up and kissed the back of her hand, but he made no motion to remove the ring. 

Seladon focused on Ladella splayed out on the bed between them, asleep. She would become Ladella’s mother legally, she would have more babies. 

She needed to speak with a Sifan Far-Dreamer. “You stole me, and my sisters, and if I say yes, it was all to make me into your wife.” Gurjin hummed at her. 

“I did steal you. And I am asking you to be my wife, but I did not plan the later.” He humphed. “I hated that I liked you. The precious and snooty Vapran princess, who treated me like furniture the first day you were in court.”

“I was not about to sit on the floor.” 

“I shouldn’t have tried to put you there.”

“And now you know for the future-Oh!” She bit her lip, a fresh blush rippling over her cheeks. However, she did squeeze his hand back. 

“Yes,” Gurjin said slowly, his voice low, but soft. That grumble he would speak to Ladella with. “Yes, I now know for the future.”

She didn’t dare look at him, but did stare at her new ring. 

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Her back hurt. And her wings. 

Naia cracked her eyes open, bit by bit. She was in a white room, the medical rooms of the Imperial palace were located in the North wing. Unless she was moved back to Sog, the Capital Hospital, or on the hospital ships, then she was likely in the Imperial Palace still. She turned on her side, slow and stiff all over and groaning as she went. Until, that is, something pulled her back. Her hand was anchored down. Well, back the other way. 

And she did, returned to her position, where her wing hurt, and rolling over the other way to- Oh, “Amri.” She whispered. He was asleep, his head rested on the bed next to her hip. Her hand was cradled by his and her fingers were pressed against his lips. She called his name again, then wiggled her fingers, but that elicited a press of his lips to her fingers. “Amri!” She forced out, oh, but she shouldn’t have done that. She started coughing, deep, painful rattles in her chest, nearly to her stomach. A cool hand rested over her forehead. She opened her eyes to find Amri worried face. His brows were slanted and his dark brown eyes wider than she had seen before. His ears angled forward, listening as her fit slowed, then faded. 

He dropped over her and kissed her hard. She flung her arms around his neck and held him close. He was breathing hard through his nose and his kiss tasted wet and salty. And when he did pull away from her, she found the thick tears sliding down his face. She cupped his face and brushed away his tears with her thumbs. “Oh, Amri, what’s wrong?” He was warm, incredibly warm against her, but he trembled just a little as he folded his fingers against hers. 

“Let me?” He whispered. 

Naia nodded, she kept promising to dream fast with him, but never set aside the time to do so. Closed her eyes and took a deep breath and slipped out of her mind with ease. An image of the sitting room was conjured to life in her mind’s eye, but, but everything was different. Every surface and texture of everything was metallic and reflecting even the tinniest bits of light. The viewer, Amri, kept his gaze on her and-thra did she really look like that to him?

Her muddy skin was pearlescent, smooth and gently glowing. Her braided hair appeared to have a silken sheen, and eyes, the ones that stared back at Amri, glittered several shades of golds. Then the creature ripped into the room. The horrifying and nearly blinding, flash of blades. 

Then that strange light creature that did indeed blind Amri. When his vision return to him, she was on the floor, having been thrown with a great deal of force against the wall, and he crawled and tripped and ran to her. When he rolled her over- No, no, no.- her jacket was ripped and stained. She had been stabbed. And the wound pierced through to stick her wing too.

He wrapped his arms around her even as she grumbled non-sensical, and carried her out of the room, calling for help as the light that she seemed to be reflecting grew dimmer and- matte? Not reflection, just flat. His demands for a healer teetered on the edge of primal screams. His arms felt heavy of iron, because if he relaxed even a little her soul might leave her body and he could not live if she went back to Thra. He refused to return her body over. 

The image dissolved and she fell from their dream fast. Amri took her hands and pressed them to his chest. “What if I lost you?” His heart was thumping heard beneath his soft clothes, his skin, muscle and bones. Oh darling. 

Naia sighed and shook her head, “I’m fine. At the end of the tunnel. We’re in the light again.”

“Don’t you get it,” He shook his head. “There are no lights at the end of the tunnel, I came from the underground, I traversed tunnels. Only true light, the purities of Thra comes from within and I thought yours when out.” He kissed her hands again. 

Naia tangled her fists into his clothes and pulled him closer, “I can’t promise that you will never loose me. I am a lady knight and warrior first and foremost.” He made a small, sad noise. “But I will give it a damn good fight before I am returned to Thra. Do you hear me, Prisoner.” 

“Do you promise, Princess Naia? A good fight?”

“Of course. Now get in bed.” She didn’t move, but he pulled back her blankets and slipped in next to her, as close as could me. “And rub my shoulder.” 

“Yes, Princess Naia.”


	10. Traveling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lull. A calm before the storm.

The accusations had been flying back and forth for nearly and hour. At least, that’s what it felt like. Seladon shifted to her right, rested her weight on that arm as she looked first at her little daughter, curling up in the pillows and blankets left on the floor between the royal thrones. Poor thing. Seladon bent over with ease, a new corset, not bone and all new fangled with an invention called elastic. She grabbed her baby, and lifted her to her chest. She kissed Ladella’s head as the screaming reached a whole new octave. 

She looked to her left where Brea had a desk, and a small book shelf. She had been acting as Seladon’s assistant and secretary for the last few court sessions, pulling laws from the books on her shelf, and writing down key notes on each case. Even filed and organized the records of each transcript the scribe penned nearby. And more.

Seladon’s chest ached as she revisited a twisted truth. Her birth right stolen from her and unfortunately passed to the next logical choice. The reason for Brea’s presence in the throne room was to train her for the role that Seladon aspired to for most of her life. Seladon hadn’t yet told Brea of her new position as Seladon and Tavra become irrevocably tied to the Western Empire. 

Brea’s mouth had dropped open, her eyes wide and pen held in midair as she snapped back and forth between the screaming exchange before them.

Seladon turned her head back and looked at Gurjin, the vein in his forehead already popped and pulsing against his sage skin. She reached out and rested her hand on his wrist. “Quiet them.” And he did. He rose from his seat and roared a single word of the Drenchen language. She still had yet to learn it, but whatever he said sounded horrible, on her own ears and blanketed the throne room in silence. Ladella started crying. 

“Everyone needs to calm down. I am ordering a midday break. Gaurds take each party to separate rooms to collect themselves. I will send a guard for each of you when court is back in session.” Seladon stated before Gurjin offered her his hand.

“Shall we walk?”

Seladon met him, rested her fingertips at the center of his palm. He stared down at her hand, where his ring glittered from her finger. He opened his mouth, but, but the closed it, didn’t speak. She hadn’t taken it off in the last unum, and to Gurjin’s credit, he did not address her on the subject of his proposal. Maybe, Seladon should bring it up? Maybe she should tell him?

He pulled Seladon up and rested his hand over Ladella’s back, over her little wings. “Yes.” Seladon blurted. He nodded, then leaned his great form over Seladon to press his lips to little Ladella’s head. With the baby still whimpering, albeit quieter, looking around with teary eyes, Seladon followed the gesture before heading towards the door. 

“Brea, why don’t you go do something else. Go see the Conservator.” Seladon sighed. The Dousan and his little gaggle of students had set about organizing and office for Seladon, which, admittantly Seladon was pleased for, but still, it meant that Seladon had less and less reason to vilify or ban this male from seeing her sister. She would have to make additional arrangements for Brea.

“Um,” Brea started, “But I thought you didn’t want me to.”

“I don’t, but if you marry him, he is going back East with you.” Perhaps he would be a good aide to Brea’s rule. Seladon could negotiate a peace treaty with her own mother and the Lords, the treaty could be sealed by their marriage. Or Seladon would succeed in banishing her youngest sister from the East, too. Oh, what to do. There were horrible tail spin thoughts that drew her mind into darkness, her lamenting the loss of her crown and family, and the what ifs. Was she even making the best choices for her sisters. For Ladella.

“Seladon.” Gurjin whispered, but Seladon gasped and jumped, cradling Ladella closer. She took another gupl of air. How could she sink into these ridiculous fogs. She could not change anything, but sometimes would be sad or angry. How dare she be tried and banished without trail and proper representation. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes.” She stated all too quickly. “I mean, I will be. We will.” Gurjin nodded slowly, he seemed to accept her answer. 

“I can hold her, if you are tired.” 

Seladon passed Ladella to him, were she curled against his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his neck. And they continued down the hall, where the tall windows flanked one side. Except outside was yet another raging storm. It had been raining for most of the unum now, well save for two days ago when the Brothers shone unhindered beams of light over the Empire. Had she ever missed the brothers more? No probably not. 

“It’ll end soon, Love. Although Ladella first birthday might need to be held in the ballroom.” Gurjin wrapped a free arms around her waist and drew her closer. Ah, yes, Brea and Rek’yr have been at the forefront of organizing Ladella’s party for the last few weeks and to stay in line of tradition. Seladon eyed her little one, almost a trine in a few short weeks.

“Then,” Gurjin’s voice wobbled, “Then perhaps a wedding?” Before either could continue, Ladella began a frantic wiggling and nearly dived from her Father. Between both her parents, she was lowered to the heavy carpeted floors. She twisted and got onto her hands and knees, throwing herself forward in a crawl. Ladella was ferocious in her explorations of the palace and entirely ignorant of the unruly storm outside. Wet season No, just call it flood. Just flood. Simple and classy. 

Ladella’s hands slapped on the marble as her little knees shuffled her along. However, Seladon was pulled back, to a stop with Gurjin. “You have my ring.” 

“Yes.” Seladon focused on him, his eyes half lidded, but his ears wiggling forward, towards her, “I mean, yes, I’ve decided to accept your proposal. If the offer is still on the table.” 

“You accept everything?” 

Seladon held her breath, but eeked out an, “I d-“ He yanked her to him, pressed her to his chest, cupped the back of her head, and pressed his mouth to hers. She gasped into his mouth, heart pounding in her ears, moaned as he rolled her head back. Seladon parted her lips for him. Her fingers roved over his back and clung to his shoulders as she tried to find leverage against him. And just as quickly as he pounced on her, he let her go, gulping down air as heavily as she gasped it. “For Thra’s sake Gurjin, not in front of Ladella.” 

“She’s a trine old. She doesn’t mind.” He nodded to her, And Seladon found Ladella crawled nearly fifteen feet down the hall to a large wall tapestry of reds and golds. She lifted the bottom of it and threw it over her, only her little feet sticking out. 

Gurjin wrapped his arms around her again, but she pressed her hands against his chest. “Gurjin, if we keep going, you or I could enter a mating cycle, before our marriage!” She tried her best to sound scandalized, but Gurjin was grinning, his eyes crinkled up. And she couldn’t help but taste his delight and began to giggle. He laughed too, deeper, drawn from his belly that only tickled her further and she nestled her face against his chest. “Can it be sooner? As soon as possible?” 

She felt his lips press against her head, just in front of her crown. “Then you must come to my home.” He cleared his throat, “As is tradition.” Gurjin stepped back, but slipped his hand around her own and leisurely strolled, guiding her to Ladella. 

“Do we need to make an announcement? I mean, to the public?” 

Gurjin grinned, brought a finger to his lips, then pointed the same finger around the hall. Since the death of the Lord, the guards followed the pair in secret. Expect, Seladon always saw them. A wing around one corner, a foot sticking out from beneath the curtains, a shadow nearby. She would shake her head at them, but at least they were near. And, yes, there were the tale tell signs of them, “I’m sure our announcement will have made the rounds all over the city by this evening, Love.”

Then, he let go of her hand to kneel down and yank the tapestry up, revealing Ladella who squealed and laughed. She made a mad dash to Seladon, shuffling and crawling, her little wings flapping in her efforts, but her focus fell away quickly as she stopped about halfway to the Vapran. 

Ladella stopped and rolled onto her back, spread herself out and stared up. Seladon looked up to the high vaulted ceiling and the fresco up there. All lovely. Seladon will have to fly around the castle one day to get a good look at the images. Ladella screamed a high pitched laugh, one that had Seladon swooping down onto her little girl, her fingers pranced over her firm little stomach. She kicked and twisted before Seladon grabbed her up and hoisted her up. “Ah, you’re turning into a little chunk aren’t you.” Seladon cooed and kissed the tight little curls covering her head, “You’re going to grow up strong, just like Daddy.” 

Gurjin puffed out his chest. Seladon hooked her hand in his elbow and tugged him along, down the halls and back to court. “I think, since the records presented show they both have valid claims to a three foot property line between the lands, we should bisect the disputed land and hope for the best.” She shook her head, it was the best option at the moment, but neither would be happy. None-the-less Gurjin nodded, and guided them back to the throne room. And just like a perfect routine, they climbed the dias and settled in their thrones, but Seladon did not put Ladella back on her pillows and blankets, not until the land owners had departed the palace.

They two parties were brought in, and Gurjin handed down the sentence as Seladon watched. The simplest fix for the situation as of current documents and estate laws of the Empire. 

If only it were that simple. 

The Dousan land owner threw down his glove, literally pulled off each finger then tossed it on the first step of the dias. “I demand the Lord Regent’s personal oversight of the bisection of our lands.” Gurjin rolled forward in his chair with a growl and- 

“Your land is in the Northern hinterlands?” Seladon cut in, Leaning forward just a bit, but arched a brow at the male. “Not far from the lowlands where the Swamp of Sog is, correct?” 

“Yes, of course, milady.” 

“Acting All-Maudra.” Gurjin growled as he shifted to rest his chin on his hand. 

“Yes, Acting All-Maudra.” The Dousan bowed deeply, “And please, allow me to host the Imperial family for a mighty feast.” 

“And me,” The Older Drenchen land owner stepped closer, “It would only be proper to host the most beloved royals at my home.” 

Seladon’s chest burned and she just shook her head, “Very well, We accept both your invitations. Now, go home and prepare, we will meet you in a few days to bisect the lands.” Seladon waved them away, the two bowing to her all the way to the doors as they went. A throat cleared to her right and Seladon cut her eyes to Gurjin. 

“Pray tell, mine lovely,” Gurjin leaned over the arm of his chair, towards her. “Whom do you intend to run the empire, while we are on our engagement trip?”

“We will.” Seladon shook her head, “And,” and…oh, wait. She knew someone who could run the courts. Oh, yes. It would be a good learning experience for, “Naia.” She would have legitimate access to the throne as sibling to the Lord Regent, and more accepted as legal heir to a Maudra of this Empire. “And Brea and Rek’yr will help.”

“Naia is coming with us. To announce her intentions for her Grottan before The Sog Council and my mother?” 

“Alright, then just Brea and Rek’yr and they will have Tavra close by. We’ll move court with us. Brea is incredibly smart, and with Rek’yr’s help they could at least mitigate mild issues during our absence. Severe issues can be brought before us per messengers.” Seladon couldn’t suppress the grin forming over her lips. “I like the idea of traveling.” She would have to send Brea on her own trip around. Thra knows the youngest Vapran will never forgive Seladon if she would not be allowed to travel. “I’ve only looked at your maps, but I want to see the entire Empire. I mean actually see it.” Seladon grinned and eyed the large map on the wall well behind him, where a large green pearl was inlaid far west of the fantastic Emerald of The Capital of the Empire, “Since Sog is on the other side of the Hinterlands from us, we can say most of the trip was to perform our royal duties.” 

“I’ll have a ship made ready, and food. We’ll leave in the Morn.” Gurjin reached across the space, wiggling his fingers until she met him and held his hand. He gave a little squeeze, “You’ll love it.” 

Perfect. She actually felt lighter than she has in the last several weeks since her disownment. She has a new and permanent purpose. “Alright, who is next?” A set off lower class persons shuffled in and bowed to her. 

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The odd situation had happened two days prior to now. 

Naia sat next to Tavra, the two gulping down water in the shade of the train grounds sand pit on the one non-rainy day of the unum. Tavra had lost, after a vicious hour long battle, well it began as sword practice, but fell into a rousing round of hand to hand combat that left Naia thoroughly impressed, but the winner none the less. 

She enjoyed these days, when little work was to be done, but Tavra would meet her to train, share combat and war texts, even sit as Naia mindlessly regurgitated the perfected sea battles and the nose rams. Oh yes, the look of shock, then her lips curled up in a grin. “You have battering rams that are beneath the surface so the attack isn’t seen until it’s too late.” Then she sobered. “but why does your ship drop life rafts?” Naia had answered, “We are there to win a war, not kill each other. We simple take out your weapon then leave you to swim home. It’s that simple. Some of you stupid Easterners don’t stop though, in which case, we do take extreme actions.” 

From that day forward, Tavra regularly carved out an hour or two after leaving her sisters, to visit with Naia, share battle stories, or more often, ideas for fortifying defense, movement of troops, and curriculums for military training schools. Tavra enjoyed her time as the Imperial Secretary of Defense and Acting Second General, only succeeded by her the Imperial leaders, Lord Regent of All Maudra.

“Pay up.” Naia was drawn from her thoughts all together by the delighted voice that could only belong to her Grottan. Amri was settled nearby, his reflexive goggles pulled over his eyes as he gazed over the bright sands even mid conversation with young Brea and Conservator Rek’yr. The latter two handed over a little purse each. 

“Amri, don’t gamble, its unfair to everyone else when you pick me.” 

“I always pick you.” 

Naia blushed, but preened at the attention and returned to Tavra who refilled their wooden cups. “I missed this.” Although Naia was well aware that Tavra had been wrapped up in the Cathedral, the priestesses, and the rituals required to become the religious leader of the Empire. And how did this all happen? That Three Vapran poised themselves in positions to successfully take over the Empire: The Religious Sector, the Educational Sector, and The Judicial and Imperial Sectors were all changing to accommodate the Vapran guests. “Guess it’s the year of the Vapran.” Naia mumbled, but Tavra heard. 

“I suppose.” Tavra rolled her shoulders, “I missed this, too. There is nothing as calming as an invigorating fight.”

“Contradictions.” Naia hummed then took another sip, “So you’ll all stay?”

“Oh, yes. And more.” Except Tavra looked, er, troubled. Her brow wrinkled and she flicked her eyes to their friends. “Naia, will you promise me something?” Naia sat up straighter and looked full at the silverling warrior. 

Strong, and pretty, sure. Soft, long hair and piercing eyes stared right back. Naia’s heart shivered. What was to be asked would not be good. And it wasn’t. “Naia, I need you to promise me that when given the chance you will leave with the Maudras, and do not wait for me. Just leave.” 

What? “What the hell has do the Priestesses have you drinking?” or smoking. Thra! Naia dropped her wood cup, empty now, and stood up to look down at the stolen princess turned Delphini. “You are a religious leader. Precious to my Empire. Why would I leave something precious behind?” And one other thing, “Also, of the three of you Vaprans, you’re the only one I can stand.” 

“No, Naia, listen. It’s how the song is supposed to go. And deviation from the song could be catastrophic.” Tavra rose to, and reached for Naia’s green hands, “There will be a time where you and I are in the catacombs, and you must leave me behind and take the Maudras.” 

What catacombs? Nowhere in all the West are there catacombs. Sure, there were naturally formed caves that led underground where arathiam have peacefully settled. But they were catacombs by any means and the Arathiam and gelfling have had a peace for the last few trine thanks to late Empress Keevala. “If this is a prophecy, it is not set in stone.”

“You don’t understand now, but tonight, you and Amri must come to the Cathedral. At moon rise of the first sister.” 

Naia…didn’t-didn’t know what to do. Tavra either lost her mind, or in true Delphini had heard all the songs of Thra, and was either trying to change it, or saw the consequence of a change. Still, nothing was set in stone. However, Naia squeezed her hand and nodded. What else was there to say?

Nothing.  
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Seladon sighed. They had taken a flying ship without too much fanfare. With the rain, Seladon stayed in the royal quarters, where she had a sitting room with a desk, a bedroom with a smaller nursery just off to the side connect by a door. Ladella had just gone down for along nap in the room, but Seladon left the doors open so she could hear her. For now, Seladon merely focused on her work, reading over the estate laws in specificity for the bisection. 

She had new estate documents drafted for the land owners and a copy made for her own records, she would just need Gurjin to sign them as the Lord Regent. Said Lord Regent was on the decks with Naia and the other Drenchen, except for Ladella, soaking in the rain. She didn’t understand, but left them to it. 

She stretched her back, rolled her shoulders, rubbed her temples before she lifted her tiara off her head and set it on the desk over the documents. Seladon stood up and walked over to a drawn map on the wall. She reached out and pressed her fingers to the soft paper and traced their journey. From the Imperial palace on the coast, west over rolling hills and only a half day over a wall of mountains that so reminded her of her beloved Claw Mountains and into the Hinterlands. Still they had farther to go. Into the heart of the Hinterlands to reach to the lands in question. Except, Gurjin informed her that they would be stopping for a couple days just on the other side of the Mountains. In the Imperial Mansion.

But, he said they wouldn’t be even there until late tonight. 

And she was suddenly so very, very tired. She barely wobbled to the bed before she fell over and sunk into the pillow and- 

And- well, she was not asleep. 

No, not at all. 

She was in a fog, the white mist billowed around her as she twirled. Where was she? “Hello?” She called, but her voice echoed out and returned to her. She took a few deep breaths as her heart beat quickly. Whatever was happening. 

“Hello, Little Gelfling.” A deep voice whispered, but it was so loud too. Seladon reached up and covered her ears. A weight fell on Seladon’s shoulder and she yelped as she spun and-

“Tavra?” Her sister stood there, in military dress, sword on her hip and soft smile on her face. In the mists behind her, was one of the priestesses, Onica was it? Stood at Tavra’s elbow. “What’s happening? Where are we?” 

“We are in the dream space. The mystical plane our minds actually go to when we dream fast. Just, I brought more than your mind. I needed to share something with you.” Tavra offered up her hand and took Seladon’s. “Please. Very soon, something terrible is going to happen and we will all have very little time to act. So I must beg of you, listen.” 

Seladon only nodded and Tavra pulled on her hand gently, but firm, into another place, a-a, a cathedral. Tall pillars rose from a stone floor. And she only knew that because she was shoeless again. Now how did that happen? The stained glass windows were back lit and brilliant, the pillars were carved with depictions of Gelfling. And Tavra and her priestess stood at the center of a strange area, down two steps into a circular carpet of soft green moss and grass. “Is she here?” The deep voice asked again. “Is the All-Maudra here?”

Tavra grinned, “She is.” Seladon looked around but did not find the source of the voice. 

“And who are you?” Seladon asked. 

A deep breath, the sound of all the air in the Cathedral pulled in then rushed out with, “I am the Guardian of the Crystal of Truth. I was the first born of all it’s creations on Thra, and I carried it for countless trine.” It’s voice rolled into a growl as the voice continued, “But it was stolen from me handed over to Aliens by the naïve Mother Aughra. And Thra has wilted since.” 

Seladon took a breath, “the Lords protect the Crystal.” 

It laughed at her, “You will learn soon, I’ll not waste me time, as I have so little of it left.” It took another breath. “The song is speaking, and you must answer. When you see the Imperial Armada take to the sky come here, I will do as you bid, at least for a very last time.” 

Seladon turned to Tavra, and a new question wiggled into the forefront of her mind. Of all the things she could ask, this one pressed most important, “And you need my sister for this plan?” Tavra grinned and Squeezed Seladon’s hand 

Another breath, but it only answered with, “I have my own princess?” It hummed, “Wonderful. My own princess.” Another bit of humming an old song, one she wracked her brain for because, well, she heard this song before. Was that the one Mother sang? High above, the vaulted ceiling was scaled din more fantastic paintings, of Gelflings and the Crystal of Truth, and from that ceiling hung massive chandeliers of the fireless lights. Except, from the central chandelier was an object Seladon knew so well, only one. She ahd seen thousands of these cover the ceiling of her mother’s chambers. 

Onica stood beneath the Unamoth chrysalis with her hands raised. With a small, “tink” the glowing chrysalis fell right into the Sifan Mystics hands and she brought it back to Tavra. Tavra grinned as she held it with one hand, “Since you remember mother’s song the best, you need to do this part.” Tavra pressed it into Seladon’s hand. “It would be best to send it off the night you return to the Imperial Palace. Now have a good trip.” 

What in Thra? The fog became thick and the lights dimmed around her and- 

Gurjin leaned over her, his hands on her shoulders. His face was pinched and worried, “Love? Are you alright?” Seladon took a deep breath, but didn’t know what to say? 

“When is the Imperial Armada sent out?” 

“Er, not until there is a threat. I have decided to try to honor the treaty, but do to the current situation they are amassed at the Imperial Port for quickest dispatch. Why?” 

“I just, had a very strange dream.” Seladon shook her head, blinked a few times and cradled Tavra’s Chrysalis closer. It was not a dream. She moved to sit up and- Oh, for Thra’s sake! He. Was. Dripping wet. “And you’re soaking wet, get out of our bed!” She whispered and flapped one of her hands to get him out. He stood up, hands up in defense, but she felt the dampness on their bed and on the her dress. She threw the covers back and stood up.

“My apologies, Love. I came to change out of my sodden clothes, but you were laying there, and it looked like something was wrong-“ Gurjin continued on even as she gently rested the chrysalis in a drawer of her bedside table, atop soft handkerchiefs where it would be safe. 

“Gurjin,” She kept her back to him but raised her hand, “you have succeeded in dampening my dress. And since I have let our maids away until late evening, you will have to unbutton the top layer. I want out of it before I get cold.” 

“That I cannot do.” Gurjin’s voice deepened and heat rushed down her spine so fast her thighs quivered. How could only his voice do this to her? “I might very well undress you entirely. Then I would be terrible, now wouldn’t I?”

Seladon held her breath, her pulse thundered in her ears, and her chest all the way up to her hairline burned. She let a breath out, but her next inhale was shaky as she slowly turned to him. He stood tall over her, dripping wet, his skin shine from the water, his dreadlocks rolled off droplets, and his clothes looked heavy on him muscular frame. And his eyes, he stared at her just like that first night she pressed against their door, when she breathed in his scent and he followed her by her own. 

And well, she didn’t know what made her do this. Was her hormones so messed up that it would hit her this hard? Seladon rolled her head back, her heart shivered, and she arched her back as she spread her wings. She blushed hard as she stared at him through half lidded eyes and opened her arms to him. 

“Seladon,” He took a deep breath through his nose, his eyes widening, still hungry, but his whole expression was open. Gurjin reached out for objects on either side of him and clung to them, every one of his muscles tensed and just seemed to pulsate to….to hold him back?

She gasped down a lung full of-of her scent. Seladon licked her lips as she smiled open mouthed. “Take your clothes off.” She was in heat. And She wanted him. Seladonn turned around again, her wings still out, “And unbutton my dress.” She heard movement behind her, the heat of his body against her wings, even through his cool clothes. 

“Oh, Seladon, you want to do this now?” He purred. Actually purred. “Ladella-“ 

“Is fed, changed, and asleep in her cradle. And she sleeps like a rock. We both know that.” Seladon cut her eyes to the adjoining room, the door open so she could see the bed from her position. 

It was all the encouragement he needed. As he brushed her hair off one shoulder. “If you insist.” He kissed her neck, but his hands dutifully unbuttoned her dress, pulled laces away and push the fabric off her shoulders.

“Oh! Gurjin, you-“ She shivered as he laved down towards her now bare shoulders and he pulled her against his body. One of his hands curled under her arm and brushed his fingertips ever so light over her shift covered breast. He retracted his hand for a moment, and, well she didn’t want that, “No, don’t stop. Undress me.” She ordered, and he hummed as he sucked on her skin. 

She arched her back, kissed him and rocked her hips against his, but-, well it was no use. She had so many layers of skirts she wouldn’t be able to feel him through it all. He yanked at the buttons and strings and pulled away from her to remove her dress. Then he hugged her, his wet clothes soaked hers quickly, she jerked at the cold shock. “Oh, Gurjin!” 

“Patience love. Normally, we Drenchen do this in water, I just needed to get you a little wet.” 

“There are others ways to get me wet.” He guffawed at that. 

“You little minx,” He was quicker to untie her skirts, letting them drop to the floor around her. Then her elastic corset. She blushed to find herself in just her shift and her stomach flip flopped as she turned quickly in his arms and pushed him away. 

“Clothes,” But Seladon waved her pointed finger over him. As he pulled the buttons of his vest, ripped his shirt over his head. He just dropped these to the floor. 

“On the bed, Love.”

Oh Thra, she was actually going to do this! Seladon folded the heavy comforter back, then pulled up blankets and sheets and crawled into bed as Gurjin pulled at his belt. She crossed the mattress and drew her blankets up over her shoulders. She shivered. Calm down Seladon. Oh, she was terrified, but it was so…so wonderful. There was something about this that she couldn’t wait for, and she wanted to dance, maybe mating dance. She kicked her feet around, and tried to release the rubber band tight tension coalescing in her stomach. The bed dipped behind her, then settled his firm body against her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed her against him. Her wings quivered over his chest. 

“Come here.” He flipped her onto her back, then slipped his hand down her stomach and down to push her legs apart, but as he drew his hands back up, he stopped and-

“Oh,” His hand rested over- over her core. “Oh, Thra.” She sighed, even though her shift separated them, he was so warm. Did he have a fever? Seladon touched a hand to his forehead. “No fever.” She whispered. He winked at her. Winked! Then buried his face in her neck and braced himself over her. She stared up at him for only a moment, parted her lips, before he swooped down on her. She moaned into his mouth. 

Seladon wrapped her arms over his shoulders and hugged him close. As one of his arms braced above her bead. He began rocking over her. He rolled his other hand down, gently over her breast, although he didn’t spend much time there, smoothed over her waist then hips. Gurjin’s hand slipped down her thigh and slowly pulled up her gown, clutching and twisting and pulling until he had the hem of her dress. 

Seladon closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath as his fingers whispered over her skin. Her heart was beating so hard that-well, she might die. Was that a possibility? Could she die during mating from heart attack? Seladon squeaked, separated from his lips and pressed her forehead against his as his fingers tripped up her thighs, and brushed her silver curls. “You don’t need to be slow.” Seladon whispered as she twisted her hips, helped reposition his hand over her. Seladon pushed his long hair away and pressed her mouth to his shoulder. 

“I want to enjoy this.” He murmured then kissed at her cheek traveling to her neck where he nibbled and sucked. “You smell so damn good.” He muttered as his fingers moved over her, then she felt one of his fingers slip deeper, against her. It felt wet, but she shivered and rocked against his hand as she kissed at his shoulder. 

“You smell of seaweed. Just like Ladella.” He laughed, but his hand came to a stand still over her core. 

“I stopped scenting her.” 

Er, “What?” Seladon squeezed his shoulders, and pushed, only a little. “What scent?” 

“Yours,” Gurjin lifted up and, oh, his expression was so open. No matter how he tried to hide it, Seladon saw his expressions every time. “A sample was taken from you and made into a perfume the day you got here. The maids would just sprits Ladella every few hours.”

“Why in Thra’s name would you do that to our child?” Seladon tried to focus through the fog of heat brain as she tried to focus on this one thing. 

“So you wouldn’t have a problem nurturing her.” he shrugged his shoulders. 

She could let this slide, “Gurjin, her scent is not going to affect how I feel about our baby.” She started pullng him back to her, “Run everything by me first, from now on.” He grinned. 

“Yes, Love.” 

“Good, now,” Umm, how could she say this politely? “Kiss me again. And do that thing with your hand.” 

He laughed, but did as she said, rubbing his finger between her core lips, edging lower, to, well she was unsure. She had never touched herself, and was somewhat regretting that now.

Words left her mind, and all she could do was whisper his name, kiss his shoulder and gills and- He pulled his hand away. “No,” no, no, no. “Please, no.” She tried to find his hand, to bring it back to her. However, he stretched over her, looked her in the eyes and gave her a soft smile. 

“I’ve got you, Love.” He kissed her nose, even as he shifted over her. He pressed against her core, lifted one of her legs over his hip, and started to slip in. Slowly. It- it didn’t hurt actually. It was slow. And she heaved great lung fulls as her body stretched for him, but it didn’t hurt. He was heavy, like a weight inside her, anchoring her to him, where she was safe. Their joining wasn’t the violent pain she had been told it would be by all the older women of the Eastern Court.

She rubbed her hands over his shoulders and down her spine. “Alright?” 

“Mm-Hm.” Seladon nodded and he kissed her as he pulled away then rolled back into her. Still slow. He kissed her, hard, then caught her lower lip and sucked at it as he moved. She arched again, and her thighs quivered in his hands. “My stomach feels jittery.” And more. She started to twist up, or, or maybe something inside her started to twist up, er, she wasn’t sure, but she just clung to him. She started to shiver and shake, like that night in the North wing of the Palace, when he spanked her.

He gave that growly hum that she licked, curled over her, and tried to collect as much of her into his arms as he could. Gurjin drew up on his knees and as he did, he pulled her further beneath him. Seladon nodded, to what she didn’t know. Just nodded and moaned and gasped as he drove into her, his movements still were fast, but firm and deep. 

She threw her head from side to side as she cracked out his name with a dry mouth and screwed her eyes shut because. Because she was flying. Her stomach swooped and her whole body clenched up then relaxed, her heart skipped one, two, three beats as she fell before her wings started a lazy flutter, thumping beneath them. 

She didn’t open her eyes, and couldn’t hear anything beyond a muffled ringing in her ears, but she felt him breathing over her, against the sweaty skin of her neck, then her shoulder as he pulled away and settled next to her. She mumbled, forgot what she was trying to say, just followed him to rest her near deaf ears to his chest and found the matching thumps of his own heart. 

He brushed her hair from her face, and petted down her back, over her wings. She hummed to him as he kissed her head, “Rest, Love.” He did not need to tell her twice. 

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Brea settled next to Rek’yr, “Scary stuff.” She whispered and shook her head. Thank goodness the fireless lights glowed bright as late as it was. The second sister had already risen high and the last crested the horizon. Rek’yr nodded and pulled another book from one of the many shelves of Seladon’s new office. While Seladon was resting and recovering after the Skeksis attack, Rek’yr and herself took time to set up an office for Seladon. A mass of several book cases took over one side of the room where Brea set as many law books as she could into them. Shelf after shelf and then some. 

Rek’yr nodded, but shrugged at the same time and, “Well, what does that mean?” 

“It’s mean’s, ‘we will see.’” He opened the book and turned it around to set it on Seladon’s desk in front of Brea. The image starting this chapter were Skeksis and the Mystics. “There, one and the same. At least from what we know.” He shrugged. “We have a history from when they first came and as far as my own knowledge goes back, all Gelfling seemed to like them until the Second known great conjunction.” 

“I read about that, your conservatory texts state the crystal pulled them apart and started the Age of Division. Of all things, the seven clans separated into two empire and have been waring for nearly a thousand trine since.” And more. Brea had spent several days beside Rek’yr as he pulled ever document and scroll and book on the abuse of the Skeksis, the genocide against Gruenaks, how many thousands of those left were stolen by Western All-Maudra Drileme from the East nearly five hundred trine ago. 

“They are in the central part of the empire, on the plains nearest the Dousan lands.” He responded immediately. He had been doing that more often of late, listening to her thoughts and mind, adding to her stacks of books to read as each new subject came up. She loved it.

He grinned at her and did something she did not expect, pecked her cheek. “We can go see them when we travel to the Well Spring.” 

“You would guide me out there?” 

“Yes, the Gruenaks built a library of their own out there, I trained there for a few trine before I was moved to the Imperial Conservatory. Besides, I would need a painting of myself done. For you, I mean.” Brea sighed and leaned on his shoulder and grinned big. “And a set of my bones.”

“It took you long enough to accept my proposal.” She stated, but rolled her eyes as his chuckles shook her. They only separated as he took his precious charms from his neck and carefully laid them over her head and around her neck. Brea leaned it, she waited long enough. Brea grabbed the front of his robes with one hand and pulled him close, bumped their noses together, but found her target, his lips. He gasped and she felt his body tense, then relax, his breath released as one of his hands gently cupped her waist. 

“Little Sister?” Brea pulled away and looked at the door, her gaurds were around the room, but acted more like props around the room. They never disturbed her. Except the one who called for her was not any Guard. 

Brea shot up from her seat and walked to the door, “Onica, come in.” Brea waved her arms in, but Onica shook her head with a coy smile.

“Tavra sent me for you, we are all having dinner, come. Bring your poor guards and beau.” Her coal lined eyes flicked over to Rek’yr then back. However, Onica waited for them all, led the group through the palace to Tavra’s chambers, where Tavra and her wives were settled daround a table. Brea found a spot opposite her elder sister, and still found it strange as the Sifan priestesses handed food around, filling each plate before handing it off. Onica filled Brea’s plate personally and offered it with a, “Little sister. Here.” 

Madoena hummed over the light din and called to Brea, “Tell us what you studied today.” The eldest of the Preistesses reminded Brea of her mother. She was older, wise and calm. And Brea really did like her, but she was older and had already been a mother before religious life with a Gelfling who died in one of the battles between the Empires. Which made her marriage to Tavra all the weirder. Well the multi marriage made this all weird. Brea actually found herself usually with Onica, who would leave the Cathedral to ask Brea a question at the Conservatorium. And that would lead Brea into near lectures on whatever subject she asked. She would always listen quietly, Onica then would write down some subject, terms, concepts for Brea in investigate. It was Onica’s prompting that had Brea digging into the their history, digesting information of the Skeksis.

And- helping her develop the conversation she would need to have with Seladon when she came home. Because the information, direct primary sources Brea did find, only collaborated the Western Empire’s view of the Skeksis and their beloved Crystal. 

“Little Sister, bring your thoughts away.” Onica whispered, but Tavra’s open face said so much.

“I was reading about the Skeksis. And, I must admit, I am scared.” Her home had been wrong, but the scars of a thousand trine of war may be irrevocable. How will Seladon bring a treaty between to the two Empire when so much wrong and hate has been thrown at each other. And Brea could not justify the genocide of the Gruenaks after seeing texts written by Gruenaks who opposed the viciousness of the Skeksis. And they were vicious. Brea hated the Tithing ceremonies and how those who could not give, were robbed by force with the help of the Gelfling governments. It made her sick. 

“Brea, stopped your musings. Very soon the volcano with erupt.” Tavra shook her head, “You will be safe, but I need you here to help with the refugees. You mustn’t be scared.” Tavra picked up her goblet and sipped at it. “Did you put together the proposal I spoke about?” Tavra had cornered Brea a few days ago on a project. A housing project. 

“I still have numbers to check.” Brea shook her head. “And you said you would tell me about your adventure today!” Tavra laughed and nodded. She took a deep breath and started. She spoke about the city streets giving way to residential sectors, then to rolling farm area, then to wilderness. How her landstrider only picked up speed as it drifted to the massive trees that were so tightly grown together, Tavra worried neither she nor the landstrider would fit through. But they did. 

And Brea was enthralled. She couldn’t wait to go on the same adventure. With Rek’yr of course.


	11. Spies

They had stayed an extra day at the Imperial Mansion, set up to overlook the massive mountains and planes that were the Imperial lands which transitioned to Hinterlands. She settled in the sitting room where a full wall window showed off the fantastic landscape draped in heavy rain. That was mostly the reason why they had taken another day to rest and to let the storm decompress some of its anger. 

Of course, the mistress of the house, the woman who cared for the structure and the land sat down with Seladon. Imagine her utter surprise when the woman settled across form her, her own mixed clan childling in her arms and several around her feet. A Spriton woman. She was even noticeably pregnant, but the little on she held curled around her stomach.

Until Vron entered the room. He brought her paperwork to be signed, but the little childlings came alive. They put down their toys and puzzles and cards, and swarmed him. Reached for and pulled at his clothes with small hands as they all chanted, “Daddy, Daddy.” One of the little ones wrapped around his leg, but he just dragged the childling with him as he delivered the papers. 

Needless to say, Seladon was flabbergasted. Her eyes widened and mouth hung open as she looked back and forth between the two. “How in Thra did a Sprition get here?” They all lived on the Plains, in Sami Thicket actually. In the East, from where Seladon was stolen. 

“Oh,” She waved her free hand, “I found Vron trine ago. He was an Imperial spy before becoming a Palace guard. His ship went down and he fell pretty hard. I think he broke some bones. Anyways, I dragged him back to my home, fed him. I intended to deliver him to the army, but he was just so...” she waved her hand around, more to motion to Vron. 

“Lovred, please don’t bother the Acting All-Maudra.” Vron mumbled, but Lovred just grinned and shook her head. Vron gave in to the childlings and lifted two of them to his shoulders, tickling them as they went.

“He doesn’t want me to tell you, but he would recite love poems to me the whole time he was in my home. Only reason I kept him around for so long.” She sighed, “I fell in love. When the suns set, he would do Farm work, sow the fields, harvest it all. Got me through two winters. Then when a rescue team came to get him, he begged me to come back here with him. I made him marry me on the boat. It was lovely, wedding in the clouds, honeymoon in the Great Smerth.” She grinned and pulled her baby close, kissing his little head. 

Vron swooped upon the Spriton and kissed her head, then took the baby. Suddenly, the large Drenchen Soldier was bogged down with nine childlings, all giggling as he made his slow crippled walk to the door, childlings on each leg, on his shoulders and hanging off forearms. Seladon watched him, his grinned beneath it all. “Well, I will be taking a few hours to read these,” She waved the clutch of paper, “Then I will have Ladella. Please. Take the rest of the day.” Vron nodded only to let out a short breath beneath the great weight. The Spriton woman stood, with Seladon’s help, and waddled out after her husband and Seladon watched them go. 

What a terribly strange family. Er, then again, Seladon’s own situation was all that different. Except, except she was stolen, unlike Lovred who made the decision to come to the West. 

Ah, strange, but wonderful creatures, however, Seladon rocked back in her lounge chair as she set her papers down on the table in front of her, that means that there were still spies in the East. Spies that could get a message to her mother for her.

Seladon pulled the first paper to her and started in. The silly legal jargon unfolded to her as she signed each contract only after carefully reading them. She didn’t notice the movement of time, well not by the suns hidden by the stormy clouds outside. However, the clock on the mantle dutifully chimed and she looked up only long enough to shock herself. My, was that the time already?

She set aside the papers. Only two left that needed to be signed, however, she would have them renegotiated first. She set down the papers and held up her hand. She could admire Gurjin’s ring all she wanted, but that’s not actually why she stared at it. She wanted to dreamfast with Gurjin. She had only dreamfasted a few times with him, and not at all since after they had sex. She wondered if everything would be the same. Was she different? She wasn’t a maid anymore. Seladon’s heart sank, but not- well, she wasn’t sad, nor regretful. She felt different all of a sudden. 

“Love?” The door creaked open and Gurjin stepped in. His jacket and vest had been unbuttoned and his hair lacked the noticeable gold rings that decorated his dredds. “Ah, hello, Love.” He crossed the room to her, his eyes were upturned, and his lips were pressed into a fine line, like he was trying to repress a smile. Oh, dear. What was he up too?

Seladon stood to meet up, but gasped as he pulled him tight into his arms, “I’ve a surprise for you.” Oh, yes, she should worry. He nearly lifted her off her feet and walked her out of the room, down a quiet hall where they didn’t see any guards or servants. However, he yanked her into an alcove. No, not an alcove, a little sitting area at the end of this little secluded hall. 

He only stopped to grab either side of the curtain and pull it closed behind them, sealing them away from everyone else as Seladon grabbed her skirts up and headed towards the window at the far end. The glass was showered and sheeted in waves of rain. Arms wrapped around her from behind and Gurjin’s body pressed in behind her. He arched around and pressed his lips to her neck, releasing a warm breath against her skin where it followed down to the hollow of her collar bone. She shivered, used the movements to sink herself further into his arms. 

“What is the meaning of this, Lord Regent,” She couldn’t for the life of her, sound angry, because all her voice was carried out by exhales. She rolled her head back and rested on his shoulder as his mouth sucked hard on her skin. She tingled all over, even her breasts, but those sensations only fed a more vicious beast. Her stomach wiggled and jittered as thoughts of their ship’s dalliance sharply came to focus in her mind’s eye. For the moment, her heat was quenched. Not over, merely satisfied. For the moment. 

However, as Gurjin laved his tongue down to her shoulder, pulled at her dress neckline to swipe at more skin….well, her thighs quivered and her core warmed over. “Thra.” She whimpered as a strange pressure built between in legs. It was as if her body was reminding her that Gurjin was not with her, in her. She purred and grabbed his hands over her stomach, holding her close. “Gurjin, please, I need you.” She did. She felt wet as a puddle and couldn’t imagine she was anything else but falling apart. Seladon trembled and arched her back to press her backside into the front of his hips. 

“Ah, love.” He turned her around, to face him and fell upon her, kissed her hard, pressed her back against the wall of this small hallway. His tongue slipped into her mouth, twisted with her own and-,

“Are you counting my teeth,” She heaved out a breath only when he pulled away. He smirked at her, then dropped to his knees. 

“Yes.” He purred, “Good news. You have all of them.” Seladon laughed, even as he tried to smother them, even as she giggled around his lower lip.

“I’ve been meaning to do this-,” He shoved her skirts to her knees, grabbed her stocking and pulled it down enough to press his lips to just above her knees. Seladon gasped at the alarming touch, but pressed herself into Gurjin, pushed her leg out for him. Thra, she was just about offering herself up. 

“Sire?” Bellowed down the hall, “All-Maudra?” 

“No.” Seladon heard Gurjin growl against her skin, “No,” He kissed and licked up the inside of her thigh to her-

More voices joined this lone one. Everyone was looking for them, “Gurjin, we must stop.” 

He growled from his place, but pushed her stocking back up her thigh and let down her skirt. He leaned forward and kissed at her stomach, through her clothes, with her heart beating terribly fast, and too much heat burning up her torso, to her neck, then cheeks. He did all this while staring right up at her face, into her eyes. 

Gurjin jumped up and grabbed her hand as the curtain whispered and Vron cleared his throat. “Sire, Lady Knight Naia has requested you. She said additional news from the spies has come in.” Vron bowed as Gurjin exited the little alcove hall. Gurjin started buttoning his vest together as his form straightened and his jaw set. 

“Niash’Na, please escort the Acting All-Maudra back to our rooms, and have her ladies prepare her for bed.” Gurjin grabbed up Seladon’s hand and kissed the back of it, “Until tonight, my love.” 

Gurjin ran off, but Seladon allowed Niash’Na to lead her back to her rooms, an uneventful journey to say the least. Once they both entered her chambers, she headed over to Ladella’s cradle, where her little one was peacefully asleep, her little soldieress doll clutched in one arm. Her green skin was smooth and plump as she gently smoothed her fingers over Ladella’s slowly rising and falling chest. 

The maid next to the cradle sighed, “She’s been so lovely tonight.” Seladon’s lips curled up and a form shivered next to her. 

“She looks like Keevala.” Niash’Na whispered. “I imagine she’ll be just as formidable.” 

Seladon looked at the little Dousan, “Tell me about her.” The Dousan girl gazed at her with wide eyes. “Please, no one speaks of her.” 

Niash’Na nodded slowly, “She was a most wonderful All-Maudra. Her mother died when Keevala was only thirteen trine, and Keevala took the throne. The Maudra’s helped her through her first several trine. She married Gurjin, they were really good friends back then, well, really good friends until the day she passed.” 

Niash’Na lowered her head, her ears lowering.

“I married her.” Gurjin’s voice vibrated low from behind them, Seladon turned towards him, but Niash’Na didn’t. “My wife was only married to me. Only bore me a childling. She was mated to Niash’Na.” Oh. Yes, she was the Dousan in the painting with All Maudra Keevala, “Our marriage was already arranged along with all additional legal requi-,” he stopped and rolled his eyes, “We just, we had to get married, and she was my dearest friend. We grew up together, and when she had bad days in court, we would talk about it.” He sighed, but offered his hand to her, “Not my mate though.” 

Seladon gently asked, “And me?” 

Niash’Na and the Maid Servant gentle rose, “Please forgive us, my lady. We will take our leave.”

“Send my servants to my chamber,” Seladon ordered. She still needed help out of her dresses. Her maid nodded and bowed and scurried out of the room, although Seladon couldn’t not notice Niash’Na run her fingers over Ladella’s legs one more time before she turned away and left. 

The door closed with a loud groan, and Gurjin leaned against it. “You are to be mine wife and mine mate. I thought I made that clear when I put that ring on you.” His stance changed, he leaned forwards, stalked to her, “perhaps we should practice mating again.” He purred out, but she raised a hand and regretful told him off. Even after their earlier shenanigans. Thra, why did she have to be responsible?

“We have Ladella, tonight.” Seladon swept to a small chamber for her, where two of her Maid servants were waiting just inside. They fell upon her like bugs on perfumed fizzgigs, pulled at buttons and stays and laces to remove satins and silks and petticoats. They pulled away her braids and jewelry, but not her ring, and finally her shift was ripped over her head. Her disguise was undone within minutes, and she was guided to a shallow bathe. 

The above ground bathe had a seat all the way around the edges and was fed steaming water by a lovely carved fountain. She stepped in and leaned back, expecting her maids to take her hair and braid it back. She brushed water over her skin, gently cleansing herself, when hands lifted her hair up and she felt a brush be carefully pulled through it. Slowly, she was groom and she sighed as her hair was pulled into one simple braid and-“Gurjin?” She smelled his seaweed all through the room, but it was mixed with a spice. 

“I sent your maids to be with Ladella, who is deeply asleep. So,” His voice was low, gravely. Her thighs quivered and she pressed her knees together. “I have you all to myself.” He leaned over her and kissed her cheek, and she turned in towards him. Actually, Seladon turned all the way around. Her heart was thudding, and her stomach felt queasy as she pushed herself up to stand in front of him. He had not seen her naked yet. He didn’t take off her shift when they were together. He hadn’t even looked at that hot, uncomfortable spot between her legs. Thra, would he touch there again? 

Her hair hung around her shoulders, the braid never secured. And she reached up to run her fingers through her hair, to pull her long pale locks over her shoulder, “And what will you do, now that you have me all to yourself?” 

He guided her out of the bathe, toweled dried her and wrapped her up in a floor length, thin satin robe of a royal blue. The robe allowed for wing slits and she fluttered her wings a little as the waist belt was tied around her. “We are going to my chambers.” He took her hands and led her away, opened the doors to her bathing room and crossed a small hall to another room. His rooms. Her breathing picked up. Oh, Thra, oh, Thra. Because she was not ready for this! And yet. She considered just attacking him here. She could get to his gills from her spot now and stick her hand in his pants. Well. She doesn’t know how to untie them though. 

“Gurjin, now. I need you now.” They slipped into a darkly decorated room, a sitting area on one side with a warm fire already burning brightly, the only light in the room. A large bed sat on the other side with four posts and curtains on either side. Rich dark colors glowed in the heated light of the fire, and he guided her closer, to a small couch where she believes he meant to sit her down.

Seladon stopped though and turned around to face him. He leaned down over her and she rolled onto her tip toes and found his mouth, bit his lower lip and used it to bring him closer to her. The satin of her robe was cool on her feverish skin, but she felt Gurjin’s heat through the material too. Ugh, get it off her. She grabbed at the ties of her robe, but he stopped her, turned her around, and kissed at her cheek from behind again. “There’s something I want to try first.” 

He sat on the couch, then opened his arms to her, “Lay over my legs. On your stomach.” He ordered, and-and- was he going to? He grabbed a few sitting pillows and set them to his right.

Breathe. Seladon Breathe! Her throat quivered, and knees trembled, and for Thra’s sake, her core was so wet, she felt, warm drops start slipping down her inner thighs. She carefully crawled into his lap, laid prone with her head on the pillows, as his ran his hands over her back and wings. Seladon closed her eyes, because his fingers felt so good on the delicate membranes of her wings. Her stomach twisted up as he gently drew his nails over them. 

Thra. Perhaps she should have bathed with him? Next time she would let his hands work over her entirety. A sweat broke out over her skin, then coalesced at her core. One of his digits touched the pad of her foot, rolled over her heel and started up the back of her calf, lifting her robe as Gurjin went. “So soft.” 

“Gurjin, what are you doing?” She opened one eye, but stared into the fire and bit her lip as those fingers spread over her skin. He slipped to the delicate skin just behind her knee, swirled his fingers in little circles here as she shivered in his lap. Thra, did he feel how tight all her muscles were? 

“I am…experimenting.” He started to dig his fingers into the muscles of her thighs, slowly pushing the satin up. He smoothed his hands over the cheeks of her backside and her heart missed every second beat because, Oh, Thra, he was going to do this to her again. 

His hand pulled away, her body relaxed only a little before the impact shocked her. She became stiff again, but he messaged her muscles, then pulled away again and brought his hand down on her several more times with barely a breath between the contact. She gasped and panted and reached out for the arm rest. She fisted the couch to steady herself as he messaged her. 

Then he started in on her. She squirmed and whimpered and moaned. That he responded to. Her ears flicked back towards him as he groaned and started to roll his hips up into her. And she felt him, his hardness through his soft clothes.

Gurjin teased her, spanked her, soothed her for…well, she didn’t know how long he did this to her, only knew that her stomach was tight and her body unbearably hot. Seladon wondered if she could twist enough, if she could tip over the side, she would fall into the black abyss that she could taste. It was near, but this wasn’t enough. 

“Please, Gurjin. I need more.” She cried out before she buried her face into the pillows. His hands rolled over her back again for a few minutes as she caught her breath. Seladon’s backside felt hot and swollen and she was ashamed to love it. Still, Gurjin finally rolled her over, relinquished her just enough to turn her. Seladon liked that he cradled her to him, one arm wrapped around her back, and the other beneath her knees. 

She smiled just a little, “What has gotten into you?” 

“Well, I wanted to do something nice, besides, I-I couldn’t resist you.” 

Seladon laughed and hugged him, tucked her face into his neck. She opened her mouth and breathed on his gills, felt them flutter against her lips and-Spice! He smelled of seaweed and spice! “Gurjin,” She was shaking. Oh, this could be so exciting. “You’re in rut.” And she was in heat. 

“Ah, yes. We can stop. We should stop.” 

However, Seladon laughed, “Let’s mate.” She didn’t care for tradition. None of this was tradition. Her theft, her new position. Her motherhood. Not one drop of tradition, just full desperation. So no she did not care! He rolled forward, stood up, but kept her tightly captive in his arms as he whisked her to the bed and practically dropped her there. 

Gurjin stretched to his full height with his chest puffed out and-that scent, oh, “Thra, please, please,” She rolled her head back, arched her back as she flickered and stretched her wings. She shifted her legs apart and nearly drooled as he shucked his shirt and vest. Gurjin pulled strings that loosened his pants. He shoved them down, exposed himself entirely to her before he leaned over her and took a long breath in through his nose.

She moaned, Thra, could he get sexier? Oh, Thra, she used the word sexy. Seladon raised her arms, outstretched to him and he lowered himself over her, to her. He dove into her bared neck, started suckling on her delicate skin there as she whined into his ear, between pressing her lips to his delicate skin. “Gurjin, listen.” She whispered and he groaned into her neck. His only response. She could feel every line of his body through her robe and-Was, A weight rested on her thigh. Thra was he that big. She shivered as he hugged her to him and she felt breathless. His arms banded around her tighter than any corset, and her heart raced and raced-

Would she let him seed her? “Would you like another childling?” She whispered. Gurjin growled and his whole body jerked against her hips. He yanked her knees apart and settled her legs around his waist, the position allowed her to cradle his hips and bring him closer. He petted her right thigh as he grabbed her hand and held it over her head. Their fingers wove together and Seladon’s gaze wavered. “Go on, dreamfast with me.” 

Gurjin cupped her right cheek. Seladon leaned into the incredibly soft touch, but her eyes rose to find his. He breathed open mouthed, gulping down her scent before he leaned down to her and brushed his nose against hers. “I would fill you again and again. I’d give you as many childling as you’d want.” He growled and she wiggled and curled and rocked against him. Then, she was pulled away and fell right into a dreamfast, of just the two of them.

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Naia rubbed her face in her hands. How could this happen? The spy master had disappeared too, but his last correspondence stated that he had lost the Grottan Maudra, a very old woman. That the other clans and her own were unstable from their loss. Naia shook her head. Something was up. Something that few of their spies had gotten any leads on, but those two that were unaccounted for. 

She was going to proclaim her betrothal in a few days, but, but could she even consider this when the Empire to the East was as stable as a house of cards? She rested her face in her hands and groaned before a soft whoosh blew out the candle of her desk. And Naia waited. He always sought her out, like a little fish to a sparkling fishing lure. A gentle touch laid over her shoulders. 

“Hush, Princess.” Amri’s voice soothed her in the darkness. They were on the boat, in Naia’s cabins as she reviewed the deciphered codes and wrote up orders for more boats to be added to the navy. She even drafted an order to move the massive flying hospital ship to the coast. F course, only after it off loaded precious cargo: long term patients that required constant Drenchen healing Vliyaya’s, and new mothers and babes, at the Great Smirth where the clan healers could get to them. She wanted the Hospital ship to be dispatched with the royal armada and the imperial flying flotilla should they need to respond to the developing threat in the East. Naia sighed. She was planning an invasion, but if the accounts of monsters were true. They might not have the strength to fight off these things. 

-I worry about my Maudra, too. - Amri squeezed her shoulders. -You should speak with your brother about this.- He always took advantage of the fact that he could speak with her like this after their dreamfasted. And, it really was a dream. Is mind was so quiet, and still. Like the darkness.  
She nodded. “We’ll be boarding again within the hour, then we leave for the feasts, in two days time we end up with my mother in the Great Smirth.” She sighed, “I just hope we get there in time.” 

-Me,too.- Amri’s fingers smoothed over her wings, and trailed the design there. Naia also drew up orders to have her all the other Maudras checked on and trailed. She needed to keep an eye on them. A perfect eye. She would sent the Arathiam and crystal singers to share a web all across Thra so that Naia could keep everything in her sight. There would be no secrets.   
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Seladon sat on the edge of the bed in her night gown and heavy robe, her baby tucked into her robe for warmth. Ladella snuffled and rubbed her hands over her face as she kicked her legs. Oh, baby. The poor thing had a terrible night, all starting soon after Seladon and Gurjin returned to their room and rolling right into the morning. Ladella didn’t sleep for more than two hours at a time, nothing more. She spit up some of her milk, then ravenously clawed at Seladon until she sucked down two more meals. Seladon did check for fevers, but Ladella wasn’t hot at all, in fact she was cold and shivered until Seladon handed her off to Gurjin to cradle. 

“What’s wrong?,” Gurjin asked from his chair in the corner. She sent him over there rather than pace in front of her. He had wrung his hands for hours, worried his lower lip, and furrowed his brow. His eyes were hard set on the little one, but that would not help. 

What was wrong with her? Seladon didn’t know Drenchen care or health standards. Was Seladon doing something wrong? Did she feed her a time too many? Seladon spread her wings and tested the air, “She’s been cold. This atmosphere might not be good for her at such a young age.” Seladon held her closer, her nose seemed dry and she rubbed her face again, scrunched her eyes and then froze only to let out a great wail. 

Seladon shushed her little one, but eyed Gurjin, “Please, get your sister.” Wouldn’t Naia know what to do? Wouldn’t she know what was wrong? 

Ladella squirmed and turned over in Seladon’s arms, twisting away. “My lady?” Vron stepped into her room. The Drenchen male’s face was just as worried as Gurjin’s had been. “My lady, my wife is the head mistress of the Mansion, and she had had many children by me.” He turned all pink, a strange color on a green face and his eyes became very wide. “I-I mean, she has experience with Drenchen babes. I could ask for her.”

“Please.” Seladon nodded as Niash’Na stepped into her chambers and started pouring a clay cup of water. Vron had left by the time Niash’Na brought the water to Seladon. The Vapran thanked her, sipped at it, then handed it back. “I won’t need it if Ladella won’t eat.” Niash’Na nodded and set it back, then rested a hand on Seladon’s shoulder. 

“You are doing very well, Acting All-Maudra. Don’t let this set you back.” Then she returned to her guard spot. 

Seladon sighed, not in all the unum she had been in the West has Ladella responded in such a terrible way. What if she was a bad mother? She couldn’t question herself further though, as Vron stepped in, childlings hanging off him and around him as a pregnant female stepped it. Seladon’s mouth dropped open as the Spriton gracefully floated to her and curtsied. 

“Good Morn, All-Maudra. What seems to be the problem?” her hair was swept back in dark braids from her face, and her eyes and lips had some smile lines. “Little one upset?” 

Seladon had so many questions, but none more important that her daughter. “She’s fussy and nothing seems to make her happy.” The Spriton raised her hands, held them open until Seladon relinquished her child into them. Her hands expertly held her little one, turned her over so Ladella faced the floor, then patted her back once. Hard. 

Seladon cringed and reached for Ladella, but as she did, the whole room froze at the great big burp that came from such a little body. The Spriton giggled and shook her head. Carefully, the female returned Ladella upright and offered her back. Ladella’s body was relaxed, no kicking legs or rubbing her face. Her brow no longer wrinkled or mouth puckered, but her eyes were still red. 

Gurjin and Naia rushed into the room, but Naia’s posture relaxed immediately at seeing Ladella perfectly calm. “What was wrong?” 

The Spriton woman shrugged, “needed ‘the Burp.’” 

The Burp? Seladon didn’t have to wait long for an answer. How surprised did she look? Who knows. Naia crossed her arms. “Oh, for Thra’s- Gurjin it was ‘the Burp.” 

“I don’t know babies!” He defended as he joined Seladon on the bed.

“What’s the Burp?” 

The Spriton woman answered. “Drenchen babes do this at least once a trine. They need a burp a little more than most, lots of hard patting. In Sog, Drenchen women usually put their baby in a back harness and dance and bounce around in this wild dance until the baby burps.” 

Er, what a strange thing. Seladon could only wonder what that looked like? Drenchen females and baby dancing in circles until these loud burps resounded. “And they need it once a trine?” 

Naia nodded, “Yes, until they are about seven or eight trine?” Naia promptly turned around and walked away. “Call me when there is actually an issue. I will be on the ship preparing it for later today. Niash’Na, I need your help.” The little Dousan bowed twice before she ran out of the room, after the Lady Knight. Gurjin scoffed though. Seladon’s ear twitched. Perhaps Naia had extra help from her dear Grottan, but that was not for either of them to speak of. 

Everyone started to leave. The spriton woman collected her brood, pulled them off their father. Then she gave a farewell to Seladon before she grabbed Vron by the collar and dragged him off, “I need to give him a proper goodbye.” She had yelled off, but Seladon merely suppressed a grin and stared down at her baby. Seladon felt Ladella turn in on her. Seladon needed to get dressed and board the ship if they were to keep their schedule. Ladella yawned big and loud, her body stretched a little too. Oh, oh no, poor thing. She’s had as little sleep as Seladon. A great big cape with fur pelts was draped over her shoulders. 

Gurjin looked just as bed raggled as she did, “Here, lets just get on the ship and you can rest from there.” Selaon smiled, and between the two of them, she had a good protection, for her and Ladella, to race to the boat and get on. The rain had lightened to misty sprinkles and the wind had died all together, but she was assured those would be back harder than ever. 

In her quarters, Seladon shucked the cape in the middle fo the floor and walked round to her side of the bed, pulled back the blankets then sheets, and climbed in. As Seladon rested against her pillow with Ladella on her chest, she hummed a Vapran lullaby. 

The baby stilled quickly, her little breaths puffed against Seladon’s neck. Gurjin got on the otherside of her, “Thank Thra that’s over.” He sighed. 

Seladon found his hand and held it, as all three of them slept. At least for a little while. 

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Tavra sucked in air as she tripped out of Dreamspace again. Where in Thra was she? Why couldn’t Tavra find a crazy old crone? Hands settled on her shoulders and arms. “Just keep looking.” Onica would insist, but Tavra was done. If the Crone wanted to stay hidden that’s tops with Tavra. 

“But we need an eye in the east.” Onica would say. 

“We have eyes in the East.” Tavra snapped back, but all that fight left her as one of her hands was captured and brought to Onica’s stomach. It was rounding out. She would really be showing in an unum. Tavra’s baby, one of seven. 

“You know, the Delphini doesn’t take the priests and priestesses as their spouses very often.” Tavra knew this fact. She also knew that Thra was demanding an new generation of holy warriors breed from these women. To preform the tasks of the Delphini, seven times over. This was the only irrevocable part of her position. Did she really love her wives, or was Thra’s demand stranger than their wills? 

Still, if things don’t go according to plan, then there would be two. Only two left to sing the song and answer the call. Two little gelfling in all of Thra. 

And Tavra was terrified. Because this song was so much more delicate than any other. And they all had their part to play. Tavra sighed. Her part was to find the crone. And wake her up. The Cathedral wasn’t happy she was trying to get in touch with Mother Aughra, but she didn’t ask either, so. 

“We have days, Onica, before everything starts. An unum before we must send our ships. Before I must go to battle too.” Onica sighed, her painted eyes closed, then snapped open with a hard look for her Delphini. 

“I am very aware. I’ve far-dreamed that day for more than a decade. However, you must promise me not to get on that little ship.” Onica held Tavra’s face. “Promise. Because your sister will need you after. Her part in the song is far from over.” 

Tavra nodded, cradled Onica’s hands against her face, then finally let her go. Tavra slowly returned to her spot on the floor, crossed her legs and closed her eyes. She focused don the then and now and not yet, and thought of a place between stars and Thra and even under it. The maze way into the Dreamscape. 

She needed to find Mother Aughra before the Crystal is weaponized.


End file.
